#terry richmond x black!oc
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Shades of Red | Terry Richmond
Pairing: Dark!Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Reader
Warnings: dark themes + smut 18+, breaking + entering, jealousy, possessiveness, toxic themes, slight power dynamics, rough sex, choking, light slapping, spitting, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), squirting, breeding kink } everything is consensual but read at your own risk !
Summary: Passion, anger, lust, jealousy—all woven together into one man. Terry is charming, entitled, enticing and dangerous. YN couldn’t have seen his latest move coming….
Word count: 4.7K
a/n: This is my first time writing anything remotely dark and I think I really stepped outside of my little box. I wanted to craft a toxic love letter of sorts and I'd love to hear your thoughts..
Terry Richmond wasn’t the kind of man who stayed anywhere too long. His life was like a shifting tide—here today, gone tomorrow, always pulling away just when you thought you had him figured out. The nomadic way he moved through life suited him. He’d had his fill of staying still, of people poking too closely at the layers of armour he’d carefully crafted. Shelby Springs was just another pit stop, a place he landed when the world got too loud. And it’s where he met YN.
They’d been introduced a couple of years back through a mutual friend who had the bright idea of setting them up. “You two would be perfect for each other,” the friend had said with entirely too much conviction. But what had started as a well-intentioned matchmaking attempt quickly took a detour.
From the jump, Terry and YN decided that dating wasn’t in the cards. He was too restless, too unpredictable. She had her own life, full and vibrant, with no room to babysit someone who disappeared for weeks at a time with no explanation. Still, their chemistry was undeniable, electric in a way neither could ignore. They both wanted something—each other. And so, they reached a compromise: friends with benefits. No strings, no expectations, no hard feelings.
For the most part, it worked. YN respected Terry’s need for space, and he appreciated that she didn’t cling or demand more than he was willing to give. She had her own thing going on—a career she loved, friends who kept her laughing, and a life that was full even without him in it. She’d grown used to his disappearing acts, the way he’d go rogue and vanish for weeks or months at a time. He always came back, though. And when he did, he always found his way to her.
He was good at that—finding her. A text here, a call there, a late-night knock on her door. She’d let him in every time because, for all his flaws, there was something about Terry that drew her in. Maybe it was his charm, that easy confidence that made her roll her eyes even as it made her pulse quicken. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that mattered when he was near. Whatever it was, she couldn’t quite quit him. And truthfully, she didn’t want to.
But this time felt different.
His text came in the middle of the day while her phone was on silent. She didn’t see it until much later, after the rush of meetings and emails had finally died down.
“Be back in town tomorrow night. Clear your schedule for me.”
The audacity of it made her laugh out loud. Terry had never been one to ask—he told. It was part of his charm and part of what made her want to strangle him sometimes. Still, she wasn’t mad. She got as much out of their arrangement as he did, and she’d been known to hit him up with the same kind of energy when the mood struck. They were equals in that way, unapologetic about what they wanted from each other.
But tonight, she couldn’t clear her schedule for him.
She typed out her response quickly, a small smirk on her lips as she imagined his reaction.
“Can’t tomorrow. Got a date.”
The reply came faster than she expected.
“A date, huh?”
That was it. No teasing, no snide comments, no flirty jabs. Just three little words that carried a weight she couldn’t quite place.
She frowned at the screen, re-reading the message as if the meaning would suddenly reveal itself. It was unlike Terry not to have some kind of comeback, some witty remark designed to get under her skin. The lack of it left her unsettled. But she shrugged it off, chalking it up to him being busy or distracted.
On the other side of the phone, though, Terry wasn’t as calm as he seemed.
Sitting in a dingy motel room on the outskirts of God-knows-where, he stared at her message, his jaw tight. A date. Someone else was taking her out, sitting across from her, making her laugh, looking at her the way he looked at her. And worse, someone else might be touching her, staking a claim to what he’d quietly, possessively come to think of as his.
He took a slow, steadying breath, forcing himself to calm the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. She wasn’t his. Not really. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. But the thought of someone else having her, even for one night, made his chest burn with something he couldn’t quite name.
Terry’s fingers hovered over the screen, itching to say something, to tell her to cancel, to remind her who always had her coming back. But he stopped himself. No, he’d let her have her little date. Let her laugh and flirt and pretend that whoever this guy was could give her what she needed. Because when it was all said and done, she’d come back to him.
And when she did, he’d make damn sure she remembered exactly who she belonged to.
Terry Richmond wasn’t an easy man to forget, and that much was evident as YN stood in her bathroom mirror, smoothing on her lipstick for the finishing touch. Tonight was a rare occasion for her—a date with someone who wasn’t him. She tilted her head slightly, assessing her reflection. The soft waves in her hair framed her face just right, the shimmer on her eyelids caught the light, and the dress she’d chosen fit like a second skin. She looked good. She felt good.
Still, a shadow lingered in the back of her mind, one with piercing eyes and an infuriatingly smug smirk. YN had spent the last two hours convincing herself this date was just what she needed: a change, something uncomplicated. Terry was Terry—a storm she willingly walked into time and time again. But tonight? Tonight was about something different, something quieter.
Her phone buzzed on the counter, and her eyes flicked to the screen. A simple text from her date: “Looking forward to tonight. See you soon!”
She smiled faintly, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. YN tucked the phone into her clutch, grabbed her coat, and headed out. It was time to leave Terry Richmond out of her headspace—for now.
The restaurant was cozy and inviting, the kind of place that struck a balance between intimate and casual. Her date, Mark, had chosen well. He was polite, attentive, and easy on the eyes—a charming blend of confidence and warmth. They’d talked about work, travel, books, and even swapped a couple of funny anecdotes about their childhoods. By all accounts, it should’ve been perfect.
But halfway through Mark’s story about his latest hiking trip, YN caught herself tuning out. Not entirely—she was still nodding at the right moments, laughing softly where appropriate—but her mind drifted, unbidden, to another memory. One of Terry.
She could almost hear his voice, teasing and sharp. “Hiking, huh? Bet he’s one of those guys who carries a selfie stick to the summit just to post about it.” The thought was so vivid, so him, that YN nearly laughed aloud. She caught herself, her smile faltering for a moment before she refocused on Mark.
“So, what about you? Do you hike much?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.
“Not really,” YN replied smoothly, pushing the thought of Terry aside. “But it sounds like you’ve had some incredible adventures.”
Mark beamed, and the conversation continued. YN did her best to stay present, to enjoy the evening for what it was. By the time dessert came around, she’d almost succeeded in compartmentalizing the storm that was Terry Richmond.
Almost.
The date ended as expected—with polite goodbyes and the suggestion that they should “do this again sometime.” Mark walked her to her car like a gentleman, and she thanked him for the lovely evening. As she slipped into the driver’s seat and shut the door, YN let out a small sigh.
It hadn’t been a bad date—not by a long shot. Mark was sweet, thoughtful, and seemed genuinely interested in her. But he wasn’t...well, she refused to finish that thought.
Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she started the engine, the soft purr of the car filling the quiet night. She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. The lipstick was still perfectly intact, the curls still falling in place. By all accounts, the night had been a success. So why did it feel like something was missing?
Across town, Terry sat in his truck, parked a few blocks from YN’s apartment. His phone screen glowed faintly in the darkness as he scanned the messages she hadn’t yet responded to. His jaw tightened. The thought of her out with someone else wasn’t one he could swallow easily, no matter how cool and composed he pretended to be.
Reaching over to the passenger seat, he grabbed the small black bag he’d brought with him. It contained exactly what he needed—what he’d planned for. With practiced ease, Terry slid out of the truck and moved through the shadows. The street was quiet, the kind of stillness that came late at night when most people were already home.
It didn’t take him long to reach her place. The familiarity of it was almost comforting. Almost. He worked quickly, his movements precise and deliberate, the product of years spent learning how to move unseen, unheard. Within moments, he was inside.
The scent of her perfume—light, floral, undeniably her—lingered in the air. Terry inhaled deeply, a dark smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He made his way to the living room, his boots barely making a sound against the hardwood floors.
There, on the coffee table, was the bottle of whiskey she kept for him. He chuckled softly, pouring himself a glass and settling into the armchair in the corner of the room. The dim light from the streetlamp outside cast long shadows across the walls, and Terry sat there, waiting.
She’d be home soon. And when she walked through that door, she’d find out exactly what happened when you tried to leave Terry Richmond behind.
The hum of her car engine faded into the quiet night as YN pulled into her driveway, the evening’s events still replaying in her mind. The date had been pleasant enough—a nice dinner, polite conversation, and a genuine, if not thrilling, connection. But as she turned off the ignition, an inexplicable sense of unease settled over her, clawing its way into her chest. It had been faint earlier, an odd niggling in the back of her mind, but now it was undeniable. Something was off.
Stepping out of the car, she adjusted her coat and approached her front door, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. As her hand reached for the keys in her bag, she froze. The door wasn’t locked. Her pulse quickened, and she stood there for a moment, staring at the slightly ajar entrance.
No. She distinctly remembered locking it before leaving. Didn’t she?
"Shit," she muttered under her breath, her mind racing. Maybe she had been distracted and forgotten in her rush to leave. But no matter how she tried to rationalise it, the unease only deepened. The air around her felt heavy, charged, as though the house itself was holding its breath.
Pushing the door open, she stepped inside cautiously, her senses on high alert. The room was unnervingly quiet, and yet something wasn’t right. There was an energy in the space that hadn’t been there before, a presence she couldn’t see but could feel. She paused in the doorway, her hand still gripping the doorknob as her eyes scanned the dimly lit room.
Then it hit her—the faintest trace of cologne lingering in the air, mingling with the rich, unmistakable scent of whiskey. Her stomach dropped. It couldn’t be. Could it?
Her voice cut through the silence, firm but edged with trepidation. "Terry?"
No answer. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she took a tentative step further into the house. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. "Terrance Richmond," she called again, louder this time, her tone sharper, more demanding. "If this is some kind of joke, I swear—"
Her words faltered as her eyes adjusted to the low light, finally spotting the shadowed figure seated in the corner of the room. The amber glow of a table lamp barely illuminated his silhouette, but she didn’t need to see his face to know. She would recognise his posture anywhere, relaxed yet commanding, his arm draped over the back of her chair as though he owned the place. The glass in his hand caught the light as he raised it to his lips, the sound of ice clinking faintly breaking the silence.
"Terry," she breathed, her voice a mix of anger and disbelief.
He set the glass down with deliberate slowness, leaning forward just enough for the light to catch his features—a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of amusement and something darker. "Welcome home, Princess."
“You’re home late,” he said, his voice smooth and low.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her heart pounding as adrenaline coursed through her veins. “How did you even get in?”
He raised the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip before answering. “You’re not the only one with a key, Princess.”
“I never gave you—”
“You didn’t have to,” he interrupted, setting the glass down with deliberate precision. “I’m a resourceful man.”
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, fury and confusion warring inside her. “You can’t just break into my house, Terry. That’s insane.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze never leaving hers. “What’s insane is you thinking I wouldn’t notice.”
“Notice what?” she demanded, her voice rising.
“You,” he said simply, his tone unnervingly even. “Trying to replace me. With him.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating and thick. YN stared at him, her mind racing to process what was happening. This wasn’t Terry—at least, not the Terry she thought she knew. The possessiveness in his voice, the casual way he’d invaded her space, it all screamed of something darker, something she wasn’t sure she could handle.
“This isn’t about you,” she said, forcing her voice to steady. “I have a life outside of you, Terry. You don’t get to control that.”
His lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. “I’m not here to control you, YN. Just to remind you who you belong to.”
Terry’s words lingered in the air, heavy with promise and warning, as he took a slow step closer. The air crackled between them, electric, suffocating and sinister. YN felt her pulse thunder in her ears, the thrum of anticipation coursing through her veins like wildfire. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to run, to retreat, to reclaim control of the situation, but her feet refused to move. It wasn’t fear that kept her rooted in place—it was him. The commanding weight of his presence, the way his eyes bore into her with a heat that made her knees tremble.
“Terry,” she began, her voice wavering despite her best efforts to steady it, “I—”
He cut her off with a single step, closing the distance between them until the barest whisper of air separated their bodies. His scent—whiskey, spice, and the faintest trace of cedar—enveloped her senses, dizzying and disarming.
“Don’t,” he growled, tilting his head slightly as if daring her to finish that sentence. “Don’t give me excuses. Don’t feed me lies about him or pretend he’s what you want.” His hand came up, fingers brushing against her jaw, and she flinched—not from fear, but from the raw, undeniable pull between them. “You and I both know that man doesn’t know a damn thing about you.”
Her lips parted, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, but he moved faster. His hand slid to the back of her neck, gripping just firm enough to make her gasp. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice a rough rasp against her ear. “Say you thought about me tonight.”
YN’s breath hitched. She wanted to deny it, to tell him he was delusional, but the truth burned hotter in her chest than any denial ever could. She had thought about him. His presence lingered in the back of her mind all night, the ghost of his touch, the memory of his voice. It had tainted every polite smile, every harmless laugh, every fleeting touch from a man who wasn’t him.
“I hate you,” she whispered instead, the words trembling with a mixture of fury and something far more dangerous.
Terry’s mouth twisted into a wolfish grin. “Hate me all you want, Princess,” he drawled, his thumb brushing against her lower lip. “But don’t forget who makes you feel alive.”
Before she could respond, his lips crashed against hers, rough and unyielding. It wasn’t a kiss born of tenderness; it was hunger and frustration, a collision of wills that neither of them intended to lose. YN’s hands pushed against his chest, but it only seemed to fuel him further. He growled low in his throat, his teeth grazing her bottom lip before his tongue swept inside, claiming her in a way that made her knees buckle.
Her defiance melted into something impure, needier. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer even as she cursed herself for it. Terry’s hand slid down her back, gripping her waist and yanking her against him with a force that made her gasp into his mouth.
“You’re a piece of work,” she hissed when they finally broke apart, her chest heaving with shallow breaths.
“And you love every second of it,” he shot back, his voice dripping with arrogance. His hands didn’t stop moving, sliding under the hem of her top to find bare skin. The heat of his touch burned against her, sending shivers cascading down her spine.
“Terry…” Her voice faltered as his fingers dipped lower, tracing the curve of her hip. She hated how easily he unravelled her, how her body betrayed her with every shiver, every hitch of her breath.
“Shh,” he murmured, his lips finding the curve of her neck. He bit down lightly, just enough to make her gasp and clutch at his shoulders. “I told you, I’m not here to control you. But you’re going to remember exactly who you belong to by the time I’m done.”
With one swift motion, he lifted her onto the counter, his hands gripping her thighs with bruising force. YN barely had time to protest before his mouth was on hers again, devouring her in a kiss that left no room for argument. His hands pushed her dress higher, exposing more of her skin to the cool air and his insatiable touch.
She moaned into his mouth as his fingers slid between her thighs, finding her already soaked through. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against her lips. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “All night, you were mine. Even when you were with him.”
“Shut up,” she snapped, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of anger and arousal.
“Make me,” he challenged, his voice dripping with smug defiance.
She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down into another kiss, pouring every ounce of frustration and longing into it. But Terry wasn’t content to let her take control for long. His hand slid further up, his fingers pressing against her with a skill that had her crying out despite herself.
“Say it,” he demanded again, his breath hot against her ear as his fingers worked her relentlessly. “Say you’re mine.”
“Terry,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as the tension in her body built to an unbearable crescendo.
“Say it,” he growled, his voice taking on an edge that sent a shiver of both fear and excitement racing through her.
“I—I’m yours,” she choked out, the admission torn from her lips as her body betrayed her completely.
He grinned wickedly, his fingers pushing her over the edge with ruthless precision. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple as she shattered in his arms, her cries echoing through the room.
And he wasn’t done yet.
Terry’s grip on YN’s hips tightened, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh as he hovered above her. His eyes burned into hers, dark and unrelenting, as if trying to burn every unspoken word into her very soul. He leaned down, his mouth a breath away from hers, his lips brushing against hers as he murmured, “You only ever say my name tonight. Nothing else. No one else.”
Before she could respond, his lips descended on hers with bruising intensity. The kiss was all-consuming, a searing mix of dominance and desperation, his tongue delving into her mouth as though he could taste every word she hadn’t yet spoken. When he pulled back, his gaze swept over her swollen lips, and he smirked like a predator.
“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he muttered, his voice rough, laced with dark amusement. “Always trying to act tough. Always pretending like you don’t need me. But I’ll fix that.”
Without another word, he moved lower, kissing his way down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone and between her breasts. His teeth scraped lightly against her skin, eliciting a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. He paused for a moment, watching her with an almost sadistic level of patience, as if daring her to tell him to stop.
She didn’t. She couldn’t.
His hands roamed lower, pushing her thighs apart with an ease that made her stomach twist with equal parts annoyance and anticipation. She was already dripping wet, the evidence of her arousal glistening in the low light. Terry groaned at the sight, a deep, primal sound that sent a jolt of electricity through her body.
“Look at you,” he said, almost to himself, as he trailed his fingers along her folds. “So fucking perfect. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Before she could muster any sort of response, he lowered his head between her thighs, his tongue swiping a deliberate, teasing stripe through her slickness. Her back arched involuntarily, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. Terry chuckled against her, the vibrations making her toes curl.
“That’s it,” he murmured, before diving in with a newfound ferocity. His tongue worked her clit in relentless circles, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks that had her gripping the sheets for dear life. He didn’t stop there, though. Two of his fingers slipped inside her, curling upward in a way that made her see stars.
“Oh, fuck—Terry,” she choked out, her voice raw with desperation.
He hummed in approval, his name falling from her lips like a melody he wanted to hear on repeat. Her thighs began to tremble, the pressure building so quickly it almost scared her. She tried to pull away, overwhelmed by the intensity, but his hands clamped down on her hips, anchoring her in place.
“Uh-uh,” he growled, his lips never leaving her clit. “You’re not running from this. You’re taking everything I give you.”
The overstimulation had her head spinning, tears welling up in her eyes as her orgasm tore through her. She screamed his name, her body shaking uncontrollably as she soaked his fingers, his mouth, everything. Terry groaned in satisfaction, lapping up every drop like a man possessed.
When her body finally went limp, he sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes gleamed with something feral as he watched her struggle to catch her breath.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “See? You don’t need anyone else. Just me.”
Before she could recover, he was on her again, positioning himself between her legs. He leaned down, spitting directly into her mouth, his gaze daring her to defy him. She swallowed without hesitation, her body responding to his dominance in ways she couldn’t control.
“That’s what I thought,” he muttered, lining himself up at her entrance. He pushed into her slowly, making her feel every inch of him, until he was buried to the hilt. He stayed there for a moment, letting her adjust, his eyes locked on hers.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “Say it.”
“Yours,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move. His thrusts were deep and deliberate, each one designed to remind her of exactly who she belonged to. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by her cries and his grunts.
Her mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the lines between the two blurring as he pushed her closer to the edge once more. When her responses began to falter, her head lolling to the side, he delivered a sharp slap to her cheek—not enough to hurt, but enough to snap her back into focus.
“Eyes on me,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the fog. “I want to see you come undone for me.”
She obeyed, her gaze locking onto his as her second orgasm ripped through her, even more intense than the first.
The final wave of his dominance surged as Terry pressed her deeper into the mattress, his thrusts growing slow but deliberate, each one hitting with a force that left her breathless. Her legs trembled uncontrollably around his waist, every overstimulated nerve in her body aflame, her cries breaking into fragmented whimpers.
His breathing grew heavier, ragged, the telltale signs of his release building. Still, he didn’t rush—he wanted her to feel it all. Every inch of his claim. His hand tightened around her throat as his lips brushed the shell of her ear, his voice dropping to a rough, guttural growl that sent a shiver down her spine.
"I’m going to cum deep inside you," he rasped, his words slow and deliberate, carrying the weight of his intent. "And you’re not going to let a single drop out. You need to feel me, baby—every part of me."
Her head flung back, her lips parted in a silent gasp, unable to do anything but nod as her body clung to him, every sensation amplified. She didn’t even have time to prepare as he thrust into her one final time, his release hitting her like a brand, searing and unrelenting.
The warmth of him filled her, explored her body like it belonged there, and Terry didn’t move—he stayed there, buried to the hilt, ensuring she took every ounce of him. His hand slid from her throat to her jaw, tilting her head up to meet his intense gaze. The raw satisfaction in his eyes mirrored the shattering chaos within her.
"Mine," he murmured, the word almost reverent, though it carried the weight of a command.
They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together in the aftermath, their breaths mingling as they came down from the high. Terry brushed a stray curl from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite everything that had just transpired.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said softly, almost tenderly, though the possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable. “Not tonight. Not ever.”
comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
#terry richmond x black!reader#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond smut#terry richmond fic#terry richmond#dark!terry richmond x black!reader#ruewrites#rebel ridge#aaron pierre#aaron pierre x black reader
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Sins of The Flesh
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]
Wordcount: 3,000+
Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst
A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!
Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into trouble—and her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.
He was her very own Black G.I. Joe—six feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimen—and completely hers.
That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mike’s homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldn’t keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.
He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.
It was Sunday morning, and as the preacher’s daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasn’t there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.
He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.
When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.
She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.
“Mornin’, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashes—lashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicate—fixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her.
“What time did you get in? I missed you,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe without him there.
His facial hair, grown in during the week they’d been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neck—a silent way of saying, "I missed you too."
They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “We gotta get up. It’s almost eight.”
She groaned. “It’s too early.”
She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.
“Come on, we have to.” He patted her back gently.
“Excuse you…” She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. “You just got back and you're bossing me around. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”
He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew he’d give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that much—knew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.
“Oh, you think you’re running the show now?” he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.
“Duh. I thought you knew.”
He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.
“Who gave you command?”
His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.
“You did.” She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this position—his hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll give you what you want.
He raised an eyebrow, “Me?”
“Yeah,” She smirked, “You disappeared so I had to improvise.” Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. “Maybe don’t leave me hanging next time, huh?”
He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.
“We gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.”
His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. “Why are you talking about my father right now?”
“Get up.” His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.
She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldn’t give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.
By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacher’s daughter.
Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasn’t right, thinking these things in church, but she couldn’t help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about him—the way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel.
The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.
By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. She’d waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but she’d deal with that when the time came. He didn’t say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.
“You’ve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?”
“What?”
“You heard me. You want it that bad?” He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddy—dominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didn’t usually talk to her like this, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.
She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. “I can’t help it,” she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. “I need you, baby.”
“I get it. I've been counting down the days too,” He promised. His voice was steady and calm—too calm—while she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously.
“I need more than just talk right now,” She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. She’d wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. “Later,” he had promised.
All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didn’t seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damned— The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.
When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. “Relax,” he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmond—who was always so eager—was telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to “do all the work” if she just let him inside?
She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.
“What’s this? You got an attitude now?”
She snapped before she could stop herself. “What do you think, Terry?” Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too long—she had lost her damn mind.
“Any other time, you can’t get enough of me, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the cooties. What’s going on with you?”
“What are you trying to get at?” he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mike’s wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around.
What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all.
“For real?” he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. “You think I’d do you like that?”
Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasn’t an issue. “So, just because I’m not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?” He looked at her like a wounded lion.
“I don’t know, Terry,” she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. “I’m just frustrated, okay?” The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice softening. “I know you’re not like that; I was just... I don’t know.”
Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.
The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything they’d been through.
Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.
She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasn’t interested in at all.
She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. “Don’t be like that,” she pleaded.
She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was wrong– so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldn’t hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippin’.”
He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. “You really scared me with that.” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.”
“I do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.”
“Okay,” he conceded after a minute, “Just keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. We’re good.” Terry’s habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.
"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh wait—Sir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.
“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you?”, he asked. “That’s alright, though, because you’re still under my command, recruit.” He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap.
"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.
“Nah, baby,” he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, “You got a little too bold and need a reminder of who’s running things.”
Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldn’t go easy on her.
As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. “But sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.”
She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadn’t been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed, and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right – she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.
Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles.
“I get that you’re used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,” Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom.
"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.
Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of it— the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady.
“I’m so sorry,” She whined, squirming in his lap. “I didn't mean it!” He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. “I know you didn’t plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.”
He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. “Fuck!” She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didn’t help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time.
“Remember I’m doing this because I love you.”
“You need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?”
“Stay exactly like that, don’t move.”
“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to.”
“Here, grab this pillow.”
She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out.
As the spanking continued, Riley’s breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. “You’re okay. We’re almost done. Are you really as sorry as you’re claiming?”
“Yes, Daddy,” She whimpered, already imagining how sore she’d be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.
“Repeat after me,” Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. “Say ‘I’ll be a good girl and listen.’” She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. “I understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..” She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.
She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldn’t recall the last thing he’d said. She had hit her breaking point.
She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.
“You good?”
Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okay— physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray.
“I’ll do better,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.
"That’s my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didn’t get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.
“Come on, pretty. I’ll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.”
Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.
Part 2
#rebel ridge#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x black!reader#rebel ridge fanfiction#terry Richmond x black oc#Terry Richmond x black reader
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If you're looking for Terry Richmond x Aaron Pierre fanfics/writers, look no further:
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*I'll update this list when and if I can.😉
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.summary. a continuation of the previous chapter. Terry makes a bold move on Nami and gives her some well earned softness.
.kinks. choking, collaring, implied oral, sexual intercourse, suggestive language. 3021 words
.warnings. minors do not engage, you are responsible for reading material that is age appropriate. this story is written for those 21+. this chapter is a bit shorter as it's a continuation.
“Give me that pussy,’ Terry growled.
The sound was deep in his throat. His already low voice was deeper, richer, hungrier. Nami could only moan as he stuffed her pussy with his dick. On her hands and knees, Terry’s hand pushed down on her shoulder and pulled up on her hips.
She wiggled her hips backwards, swallowing his thickness in inch by inch. It was a little past two in the afternoon and she was fucked out. How he was able to draw out pleasure from her made Nami cross her eyes. She focused on his hips, the way they pounded against hers, and how his balls slapped up against her clit. She was salivating herself, drool coating her chin and chest, wetting up the sheets.
"I know that shit feels good,' he cooed, his tongue lapping at the shell of her ear.
Two orgasms in and he was fucking her towards her third. He’d already filled her with his cum and was itching to do it again. She was a mess between her legs. A creamy white mess.
“Sir,’ she whined as his stopped moving.
“Mh?” He asks coolly, ‘whatchu’ need besides this dick, Nami? You shouldn’t be asking for anything else right now.”
Her lips puckered together as she whispered so breathlessly he barely heard it. “Okay.”
Terry had given her a little more vocal leeway. Her replies had to be respectful with no cursing. He’d let her little, okay, slip because he could feel her shaking in his hands. She was still sensitive from this morning and he knew it was pushing on uncomfortable. Terry brought her back from sub space a while ago and was keeping her engaged to avoid a second slip so soon.
“Can I share something,’ he says, his thrusts quickening as he pulled her up and threw his arm around her neck. His other landed on her belly, locking her in place while supporting her lower body before he rallied his strength and fucked into her.
Nami stared up at the ceiling. His bicep and forearm applied heavy pressure to her neck, the choking method felt like a boa constrictor. His arm was so thick. He applied just enough pressure for her to feel it while cutting off just enough air she soaked his dick from the pressure and he could feel it leaking on his thighs.
“There you go,’ he whispered, very close to her ear, ‘wet that dick up, pretty girl.”
He listened to her cries and screams. Egged on by her vocal offerings, Terry rubbed hand down between her legs, thumbing the sensitive clit that was swollen and needy.
“I can’t wait for you to touch me,’ he grunted. “Those soft pretty hands on me? I. Can't. Wait.” He punctuated his words with hip shattering thrusts.
“Please, please, please,’ she begged, voice thick with desire just for the simple act of touch.
“And that’s why I’m making you wait,’ he hissed. “I like hearing you beg.”
Nami was at his control, arched back into his vice grip as her pussy fluttered around his dick. “Because as soon as I do, I’m at your mercy,’ he admitted, ‘and baby, I just can’t have that.”
Terry leaned against the cart, his attention divided between the cart filling with Christmas ornaments, a Oreo Frappuccino he kept secretly sipping, and Nami, who was pacing the isle. He made the mistake of eating the last of her doughnut holes and when he slid his seat back in the car, egging on her on to suck his dick, she got out and walked towards the store, a pout on her lips. The last thing she needed was more sugar than her frappuccino and the doughnuts had been grabbed from a street vendor back at the market. Though he bought them, he denied wanting one, until his hand dove into the bag and pulled out the last one. It just so happened to be raspberry filled. Her favorite.
"Nami,' Terry called out, bumping her thigh with the cart.
"You ate my doughnut."
"I can go back to get you more,' he offered, again.
"No. I don't want them anymore."
"Then come drink this,' he said, holding up the cold confectionary drink.
Nami frowned. "It's melted and I don't want it anymore."
Terry let out a small laugh, his face twisting into a smile. "You're upset over the doughnut?"
She placed the pink ornaments back on the shelf and faced him.
"You said you didn't want any!" She replied, voice just above a whisper.
Nami grabbed the cold drink from him and wrapped her lips around the straw before taking a long sip. She yanked it out her mouth as her head began to chill.
"Do you want more?"
"You already asked me that."
"No, I said I would go back. I'm asking if you want more."
Nami walked around him with her cup, disappearing down another aisle as he tapped his fingers on the cart before following her.
It had been her idea to decorate a tree at his place since he didn't have one. She had her own, but the chance to get a new tree and ornaments took over. After Terry and her had showered and dress, she begged him to bring her out to find a tree. Though they were at her place, she wanted to put the tree at his. The cart was already filled with ornaments in green and silver. She had asked for his input and he was terrible at it. Picking out ornaments that didn't match in color. Left up to him, the tree would have been neon orange, black, and gold.
"You mad at me?"
He had stepped up behind her, his hand on her waist as she looked through the different color and shape of boxed lights. The drink in her hand chilled her palm. Blocked by his body, Terry slipped his hands down the front of her skirt.
"Sir,' she mumbled, 'someone can see."
He looked around at the semi busy store and shrugged. Pulling his hand back, he patted the side of her thigh.
"Then hurry up. I have something for you anyway."
It was a few things actually and he was glad she pushed him to put the tree up at his place. Everything he had for her would stay there unless he moved it. Nami watched him walk to another aisle before she followed behind him.
"Wait,' she tossed the drink in a trash and caught up to him at the stockings. "What do you have?"
She stood there with her hands behind her back. Looking up at him, Nami pursed her lips in question. He hadn't given anything away and she wasn't sure where they were in their relationship to buy him gifts. That must have shown on her face because he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Don't worry about it Nami,' he said.
Her shoulders dropped a little as the tension released. She would still get him something, but she at least had time and another opportunity to view his place to see what he might like or want without directly asking. Terry was a quiet man and his house looked like a page from a minimalist magazine. From what she saw of his room all his things wer put away, shoes lined up perfectly along the wall, no stray clothes, and even his fridge was organized. Everything had it's place, including her.
Nami, anticipating what his surprise were, found the lights she wanted and tossed enough in the cart to string around the 8-foot tree.
Nami made Terry move the tree around five times before it ended up back where it first started; by dining table right before the hardwood floors changed to tile. Her black tree skirt stood out against the frosted leave christmas tree. She hadn't paid attention but the tree also came with little red berries on some of the branches, giving it depth and character. While he found an extension cord, Name began placing the pink and white ornaments. When he came back, he knelt beside her and plugged in the extension cord for her. He kissed her bare leg and up her thigh before wrapping her arms around her waist.
"You are distracting me." She mumbled.
She clenched the ornament in her hands and looked down at him. He pushed up her shirt and kiss her belly, mouthed around her waist as his head disappeared under her shirt. The warm air sent chills over her body as Terry's tongue licked at her inner thighs.
"Finish the tree, baby,' he replied.
This was the first time she had spent a holiday with a man in almost four years. It was weird, considering their dynamic, and comforting. This past semester had been hell before Terry came into her life. The balance and structure helped her flourish. She didn't dread going to class. She was present and focused. She wiggled her toes and leaned forward, trying to put the balls on the branches, but he was taking up space.
"Sir,' she wiggled her legs, his forehead was resting on her stomach.
"Nah,' he says. His fingers pinch the back of her thighs and she yelps. "Try that again."
"Oh! Sorry, Daddy,' she relaxes in his hold. It was hard to tell of his changes when she couldn't see him.
Nami leaned forward again and was startled when Terry picked up her leg and hooked it on his shoulder. He held her tight so she kept her balance, but she hated she couldn't see his face. Nami twisted around, searching for other ornaments when her leg buckled. Terry's tongue had slipped out his mouth and pressed against her clit.
"How am I supposed to,' Nami whimpered.
Terry had started to lower her to the floor, the ornaments were out of reach at this point and her legs were pushed apart. She reached down and pulled up her shirt, his dark green eyes and focused on her. As handy as the no panty rule was, sometimes she wanted to throw them on. His mouth was lethal and she knew when he locked in on her like that she wasn't going out without at least two orgasms.
Terry tilted his head upwards and she followed his gaze. Rolling over, Nami crawled towards the decorations and let out a small 'oof' when Terry grabbed her ankle. She had one of the boxes in her hand and laughed as he dragged her and the box back towards him.
When he finally let her finish, he was watching her from the couch. She moved around the tree with ease, changing the spots where she had placed an ornament or flower. Terry watched Nami admire the tree when she was done. His apartment looked a little more festive and it wasn't a total eyesore among his cleaner aesthetic.
"Come sit."
She moved towards Terry as he sat up. He reached into the table and for a second Nami thought he was getting her cuffs. Instead he pulled out a black square box and placed it on her lap. She knew it was kink related, but what else could he have? The anal ring he given her earlier was replaced with a slightly larger one already.
Opening the box, she shut it just as quickly and then gave him a surprised look.
"I was not expecting this,' she says, opening the box to stare at the diamond tennis necklace. It was very simple, dainty, and perfect.
"Collaring is important. We'll be in spaces of like minded people and I want them to know you're spoken for. Permanently."
He took the box from her and had her kneel between his legs with her back to him. She moved her curls out of the way as he latched the necklace around her neck, officially making it her collar. She turned around and he admired it. The way it sat against her collarbones, how it sparkled just enough, and the goofy and apprehensive smile on his subs face.
"What's wrong?" He asks.
"Nothing wrong,' she says, 'I….its a bit overwhelming."
It was a representation of their relationship and her acceptance of it. Nami reached up to touch it while excusing herself to the guest bathroom. She looked in the mirror at her collar. She could feel his expectations now. The necklace was beautiful and light, but it was heavy with responsibility. After about ten minutes, Terry knocked on the bathroom door.
"Nami,' he said, 'are you okay?"
She looked away from her reflection and opened the bathroom door. "Yes. I just needed to process what this means."
"It means you're my only submissive. It means you trust me with your body. I get to call you mine."
Nami nodded, but he knew what the problem. She needed assurance. She needed to be told.
"You're my submissive in bed and when I need you to be otherwise. You're also my girl,' he saw the change in her eyes, the way the softened to him. "I'm going to take you out as much as I slut you out."
Nami next surprise made her overly excited to the point she bounced up and down when he told her. Now that he had been able to indulge in her the least he could do was really reward her for being so good. It made shivers slide down his spine, but the pleasure on the other end of it kept him hard from the moment he told her until now. In the guest room, her last surprise was in his, he told her to get comfortable. Her back was against the headboard and her legs were spread. Terry had crawled between them and kissed her gently before exhaling deeply. He could see the excitement in her eyes. He’d finally given her permission to touch him and she instantly had been over zealous. She was bubbling with excitement as he complied with her want. He turned his body, his back to her chest, and she adjusted herself some so that he was partially on the pillows beside them. Nami ran her nose along his neck and watched his hands begin to clench at his sides.
Her tongue flattened against his neck and he jerked to the side away from her.
“You playin’,” he hissed.
Her ten minutes of exploring his half naked body were winding down. Nami kissed his shoulder, her right hand rubbing down his chest and stomach. The muscles clenched and the tent in his sweat grew.
“Oh?” She whispered, her fingertips snaking beneath the waist of the sweats. “Can I touch?” She asked. “Pwease, Daddy?” Her nails made small circles on his lower abdomen and Terry stared up at the ceiling as he tried to pull control from thin air. He was shaking as pleasure coursed through his body and he knew if she touched him what would happen.
“Yeah, go ahead baby. Touch Daddy.”
Nami slipped her hand in his sweats and he watched then felt her dainty palm wrap around the base of his dick. Pre cum leaked from the top and her thumb swirling the mess down to the base of his dick on one long and slow stroke.
“Oh fuck,’ he groaned, sinking into her embrace.
Her other hand was on his neck and she wrapped her hand around it to apply some pressure. She didn't waste time pulling him free from his sweats. Instead, she stroked him and they both watched the way his body began to tremble each time her hand moved.
"Shit." He cursed, his foot planting on the bed.
Nami stopped her hand at that, her index finger tapping his neck. "Put that leg down,' she said, a little commanding essence in her sweet voice. Terry did as he was told, grinning, but softly moaning as she resumed playing with his dick because that's exactly what she was doing. Playing.
He could feel her breath on the side of his face. Her breaths were long and drawn out to match the slow stroke of her hand. Downwards, she breathed in. Upwards, she exhaled. Her hand around his throat tightened and he could feel the points of her stiletto shaped nails dig into his skin. The pinch of the acrylics made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He melted into her arms, his hands clenched the sheets and the moving tent in his sweats pulled deep guttural moans from his chest.
“You’re so big Daddy,’ she whispered, her tongue dancing around the shell of his ear. “So thick,” she mumbled in awe.
Her hand barely wrapped around him. Nami glanced at the timer and began to slow her strokes. As much as she was enjoying it, she didn't want to get caught up and have to stop. Terry sat up, slight confusion but then the timer went off and they both jumped at the shrill sound. Nami pulled her hands away and placed them in her lap. When Terry turned to look at her, she wore a large grin on her face. She was more than please with herself for making him feel the way he did.
She noticed his face was scrunched up and he hd turned so his boyd was face her. Between her legs, Terry grabbed her hand, pinning it above her head with his own. He took the other and tugged her down so he could rest between her legs. He added the other hand to his grasp, and she dropped her legs to the bed, creating more room for him. Terry's dick was hard pressed against her sex, heavy, and hard.
"You're getting some rules for touching tomorrow,' he says while tugging down his sweats.
"Oh,' Nami replies, already lifting her shirt towards her head. She couldn't hid her smile from finally wearing him down.
He stoped it at her hands and twists it to keep her hands bound. He could feel the heat from her sex and with one well practiced stroke, he was buried in her cunt for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.
I went through my tag list and removed blogs with no ages, lack of interaction, or the blog just looked empty. If you were removed and would like to be added back at least have your age in your blog.
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Insertcatchynamerighthere writingsbytee pocketsizedpanther
#terry richmond x black!reader#terry richmond x black reader#Terry Richmond x black!oc#terry richmond fic#terry richmond
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Big Dude
Warnings: None. Fluffy fluff.
A/N: Look I was inspired by 'Bitch I'm Big Dude.' And yes this fic has two songs that inspired it
Imani stood at the laundry table, folding work clothes and neatly stacking Terry’s shirts. The rhythmic beat of Big Boogie’s song thumped from the speaker on the kitchen counter, filling the house with energy. She bobbed her head to the music, the lyrics pulling a smirk onto her face.
As the song hit the chorus—"Bitch, I'm big dude"—she glanced out the window and froze for a moment. There he was, Terry, outside in the driveway, spraying down his truck. His shirt was tossed over the edge of the bed, and the water from the hose glistened on his back, tracing the definition of his muscles as they flexed with every movement.
Imani bit her lip, her smile widening. She leaned slightly against the counter, watching him work with casual precision, completely unaware of the effect he was having on her. The lyrics of the song played in perfect sync with her thoughts. It really does apply to him, she thought with a soft chuckle. Big dude, indeed.
Terry turned slightly, catching her watching through the window. He smirked, giving her a playful wink before turning back to rinse the tires. Imani rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.
She folded another shirt, shaking her head. “Lord, you blessed me with that man for sure,” she muttered to herself, still swaying to the beat of the music. Moments like these reminded her how much she loved the little routines of their life together.
Imani’s smile lingered as Terry stepped through the door, towel slung over his shoulder, beads of water still clinging to his skin. His shirtless frame filled the doorway, muscles taut from the workout of cleaning the truck. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting the cap off and taking a long drink.
Her eyes followed the path of the water dripping down his neck and chest. “Enjoying the view, Ms. Carter?” he teased, catching her staring.
She chuckled, folding a pair of his socks. “Just admiring my hardworking boyfriend.”
Terry smirked, wiping the sweat from his brow with the towel. “Oh, I see how it is. Big Boogie got you in your feelings, huh?” he teased, referencing the song still playing.
Imani rolled her eyes playfully. “Please, the music's not even the reason. You’re walking around looking like a thirst trap.”
He leaned on the counter, closing the distance between them. “Only for you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth.
She raised a brow, stepping closer. “Good. Keep it that way.”
His grin widened. “Always.”
She kisses him. He gently lifts her onto the kitchen counter. “T!” She giggles.
Terry’s grin deepened as he settled her on the cool countertop. “What? Just getting comfortable,” he teased, his hands resting firmly on her hips.
Imani giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” Terry echoed with a smirk, his voice low and teasing. “Nah, I’m just getting started.”
Imani raised a brow, her giggles bubbling up despite herself. “On the kitchen counter though? Really, T?”
He chuckled, brushing a stray curl from her face. “What can I say? You’re irresistible.”
She playfully pushed at his chest. “You’re lucky I love you, or I’d be kicking you out for turning my kitchen into your playground.”
Terry leaned closer, his lips just a breath away from hers. “I’m not hearing any complaints.”
She smiles and hops off the counter. “Let me put these away T.” she says. Just like that his hand makes contact with her ass. She involuntarily moans at the sensation.
-
When Imani returned to the kitchen, she leaned against the counter, exhaling deeply. The sight of Terry back outside, shirtless and focused as he meticulously dried the truck, caught her off guard. She tilted her head, her gaze trailing over the way his muscles flexed with each movement.
A soft smile tugged at her lips as she rested her chin in her palm. How does he manage to look so good doing the simplest things? she wondered, a small laugh escaping her. She shook her head at herself but couldn’t look away.
The way the sunlight hit his skin, the easy confidence in his movements—it all had her mesmerized. It wasn’t just how he looked; it was the steady, grounded energy he carried, a strength that made her feel safe and loved.
She caught herself biting her lip and quickly shook the thoughts away, grabbing a glass of water to distract herself. As she took a sip, she muttered to herself with a chuckle, “Get it together, Imani. You’re staring like it’s the first time you’ve seen him.”
But as Terry glanced back at the window and caught her looking, his smirk made it clear he’d noticed. He gave a little wave, his eyes gleaming with mischief, and mouthed, Caught you.
Imani rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. She mouthed back, Finish the truck, Big Dude, and turned away before he could see the blush creeping up her cheeks.
Terry walked into the kitchen, his presence commanding as usual. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between them, scooping Imani up effortlessly. She let out a small gasp of surprise, her arms wrapping around his neck as her legs instinctively locked around his waist.
“Terry!” she squealed, half laughing, half protesting. “You didn’t even dry off properly!”
“Couldn’t wait,” he murmured, his voice low and warm against her ear. “Caught you staring, remember?” His lips brushed her temple, sending a shiver down her spine.
Imani rolled her eyes playfully, though the blush blooming across her cheeks betrayed her. “And what if I was? Can’t a girl appreciate her man without being manhandled the second he comes inside?”
He smirked, his grip on her secure as he carried her to the counter and gently set her down. “Oh, you can appreciate me all you want,” he teased, leaning in so their foreheads touched. “But don’t think I didn’t notice you blushing when I caught you. It was cute.”
“Cute?” she repeated, arching a brow. “Big Dude thinks I’m cute?”
He chuckled, his hands settling on her hips. “More than cute, Ms Carter. You’re everything.”
Imani’s teasing demeanor softened, and she leaned in to kiss him, slow and tender. “You’re lucky you’re sweet,” she murmured against his lips.
“And you’re lucky I can’t get enough of you,” he countered, his voice dripping with affection as he kissed her back.
“So why ‘big dude’?” he asks her.
Imani chuckled softly, her fingers idly tracing patterns on Terry's broad chest. "Well," she teased, "Big Boogie was playing, and when I heard ‘Bitch I’m big dude,’ I couldn’t help but think how fitting it was for you."
Terry arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking in amusement. "Oh yeah? So you think I’m ‘big dude’ material, huh?"
She grinned mischievously. "I mean, look at you." Her eyes swept over him meaningfully. "Six-foot-three, all muscle, tattoos... You’re like the definition of a big dude."
His deep laugh filled the room. "Guess I’ll take that as a compliment."
"You should," she quipped, leaning back with a playful glint in her eye. "Besides, it’s not just about your size. It’s your presence, the way you carry yourself. You don’t just walk into a room—you own it."
Terry pulled her closer, brushing a kiss to her temple. "And you’re not intimidated by that?"
"Intimidated?" Imani snorted softly. "T, I handle you just fine."
He laughed again, this time more quietly, his voice low with admiration. "Damn right you do."
Imani's heart fluttered at his words. She smiled warmly, her eyes softening as she met his gaze. "I love you too, T. More than you'll ever know."
Terry's expression grew tender, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "You mean everything to me." His voice dropped a little, becoming more sincere, his love for her clear in every word. "I don't say it enough, but damn, I do. You've made my life better in every way."
She reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb caressing his skin. "You’ve made mine better, too." Her voice was soft but filled with certainty. "We’ve got this, you know? Us. Everything. We’re a team."
He leaned into her touch, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her palm. "A damn good team."
Imani smiled, her heart full. "Always."
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#terry richmond#terry richmond x black oc#terry richmond smut#terry richmond x black reader#yassbishimvintage writes#aaron pierre#aaron pierre smut#terry richmond x black female oc#terry richmond x black female reader#terry richmond x black!oc#yassbishimvintage#aaron pierre x black reader#Spotify
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FAVORS (1)
warnings: 18+ MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, slight smut, a bit of a slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)
summary: Terry starts a new job at a warehouse after losing his life savings. He becomes acquainted with all of the workers except for one… the boss’ daughter.
Part One
Masterlist
“You alright over there Terry?”
“Yeah I’m good.” Terry responded.
He lifted the large boxes with ease, tossing them onto the back of the truck as they traveled down the conveyor belt. With each toss he’d let out a grunt, onlookers assumed it was from struggle but it was nothing other than frustration.
Terry had just secured a job at a local warehouse where he would load each delivery truck with boxes filled with parts for cars, motorcycles, trucks, etc. It was his only option after losing all of his life savings to a crooked police department.
Of course his experience in the Marines and his education made him a quick hire for the position. After a few weeks of orientation, training, and learning his new work schedule, he had fallen right in with the other workers who had been on the job for decades.
She watched him like hawk on the surveillance cameras, her freshly manicured tips tapping the sides of her coffee mug. She didn’t orchestrate any of the interviews or handle any of the paperwork that came with hiring people because she didn’t care to. She was solely there to do one thing and one thing only, find her next partner.
Terry had met all of the staff members on the job during his orientation. Supervisors, team leads, those with special assignments and floor workers, the same as he. There was only one person he had yet to meet, the CEOs daughter, Khloé MacArthur, the head bitch in charge.
MacArthur Motors and Parts Inc. was established in 1989 by a man named John MacArthur. There were a decent number of locations down south but his daughter only visited the ones closest to home. However Khloé visited very rarely, usually to spy on the workers and search for her new piece of meat.
She watched closely, observing his every move. Her eyes roamed from his face, admiring his naturally arched eyebrows, down to his full pink lips, his strong neck, and lastly to his chest that flexed every time he lifted a new box. The gray company shirt he wore wasn’t tight but it was no secret that when he wasn’t at work, he was in the gym religiously.
Jobs that require hard labor always had the perfect associates to fulfill her needs. Usually tall, muscular, a few tattoos and oozing masculinity. There was nothing she enjoyed more than making a big dog her bitch.
This new piece of meat she had her eyes on was nothing like she had in the past. He was pretty, no fuck that, he was beautiful. Everything about him fit perfectly in her sexual fantasy. She could see it clear as day in her mind, his big hands gripping her throat and that tight ass clenching every time he filled her up.
“Ms. MacArthur?” Olivia, the warehouse clerk and her personal assistant, called out to her, interrupting her thoughts.
“What?” Khloé snapped her head in Olivia’s direction, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
“Y-your father’s on the line ma’am, h-he wants to know if you can make it in t-time for dinner tomorrow tonight?” Olivia notified.
“I’ll pick it up.” She rolled her eyes, walking over to the phone. “Knock next time or that’s a write up!”
“Yes ma’am, I’m sorry.” Olivia stammered out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
She picked up the phone and smiled.
“Yes Daddy?” She answered in her usual sweet voice. The voice she used only for her father… and her prey.
“How’s my princess doing?”
“Fine, just doing my check-ins as usual.” She responded.
“That’s my girl, always making sure the business is running smoothly.” He said. “Have you found a date for the annual banquet?”
There it was, the real reason he was calling.
“No daddy, I don’t need a date for a family banquet.” She responded in a fake tone, trying hard to mask her irritation.
“Your sisters got her husband, your brothers got his finance, all of your cousins have partners. Do you want to be the only one there without someone for the third year in a row?” He asked, hoping to hit a nerve.
Every year the MacArthur family would get together and celebrate their accomplishments and achievements for the year. Some families had family reunions, hers had family banquets. They’d dress up in gorgeous gowns and tailored tuxedos just to feast in a ballroom reserved just for them, a few business partners and close friends.
However Khloé hated them because every year they reminded her of how lonely she truly was. The dates she had brought in the past didn’t make her feel seen or loved, they just enjoyed status. Witnessing her siblings and other relatives truly love and admire their significant others had her questioning her ability to be cherished and loved by someone other than family.
A husband wasn’t necessarily the end all be all for an ambitious and independent woman like her but she wouldn’t mind having someone to come home to every night. Someone she could truly be herself with.
“I’ll have to call you later Daddy, I’m busy right now.” Khloé said, trying to end the conversation.
“Okay princess, but I will see you at dinner tomorrow… alone I’m assuming?” He was pushing her buttons again.
“Goodbye Daddy.”
She slammed the phone down onto its receiver, making the cord bounce violently. She stared down at the brand new business phone, one she had begged her father to purchase. She wanted to upgrade the phones and computers in each warehouse. Just because the buildings were old didn’t mean the technology had to be.
After a few minutes of collecting her thoughts and attempting to bring her emotions back down to zero she went back to lurking from the small office window. She was beginning to come up with the perfect plan that would involve the perfect man.
“How long were you in?” Earl, a man in his late 50s, asked Terry.
“Four years.” Terry responded, continuing to toss the boxes like they weighed nothing. “You?”
“Man I went in in ‘85, saw all that shit they wanted us to do, told ‘em they could kiss my ass.” Earl stated unapologetically.
Terry couldn’t help but to laugh at the older gentleman. His thick southern accent made what he was saying ten times funnier than it actually was.
“I understand that.” Terry said.
“But you young bucks got the heart for that type of training,” Earl said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Me, I been a old nigga all my life.”
“Oh yeah?” Terry continued his laughter.
He genuinely enjoyed Earl's company, he was one of the first few people to introduce himself to Terry. It didn’t take long for him to warm up to the older guy, seeing as though his extroverted personality made him so many friends.
The long conveyor belt had stopped, letting them know that it was time for lunch. They tossed the final boxes onto the truck and slammed the back closed before walking away from their stations.
“How long you been here?” Terry asked, placing his hands on hips.
“20 years.” Earl responded.
“That’s a long time man.”
“Who you tellin’?” Earl joked. “I remember when this company first started. I didn’t think it would last long. A business like this ran by a black man in the south? I just knew them white boys would tear this place to shreds.”
“What you think stopped them from doing that?” Terry asked.
“The same thing that’ll make anybody do something they don’t necessarily agree with-,” Earl looked over at Terry with a surprised expression “-money.”
“Olivia!” Khloé called, approaching the large desk that sat right at the front of the building. The words “MacArthur Motors and Parts Inc” plastered on the wall in big red letters.
“Ma’am?” Olivia answered, tearing her eyes from the computer screen.
“Who is the new guy?” Khloé leaned onto the desk trying to keep her voice low so the employees passing by wouldn’t hear her.
Olivia turned to the file cabinet on her right, stuffed with folders designated for each employee in alphabetical order. She scanned her slim fingers covered across the tabs before landing on his name.
“Richmond.” She said proudly. “Terry Richmond is his name.”
Khloé took the folder from her hands, flipping through each page carefully. She immediately began heading back to the office to figure out how she was gonna go about getting him.
“Ms. MacArthur, I actually need that to finish his new hire forms.”
“I’ll handle it!” Khloé yelled from down the long hallway.
“Thanks?” Olivia said in a confused tone.
The break room was becoming empty as workers began to head back to their stations. Terry kneeled down to get the water that had gotten stuck in the vending machine, putting up a bit of a fight to retrieve the beverage.
She stepped into the break room slowly, not wanting him to hear the loud click of her expensive pumps. The muscles in his back flexed as he tugged on the water. Finally getting it from the bottom of the machine, he still hadn’t noticed her standing there. She planted her feet together, standing just a few feet away from him.
“Terry, right?” Khloé asked.
He turned his head to see her feet first, his eyes trailing up her body and landing on her face. She stood there, hands behind her back, a small smile on her red colored lips. The black suit dress she wore fit her petite frame perfectly and her thick black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail topped her business attire.
“Yeah and you are?” He said looking up at her with a raised brow.
“I’m Khloé,” She answered, holding out her hand for him to shake.
He stood, his movement seemingly in slow motion as he grew taller and taller, eventually towering over her. He took her hand and shook it suspiciously. He couldn’t think of one reason why a woman like her, dressed the way she was dressed, would be in a warehouse wandering around.
“Khloé MacArthur, I’m the owner's daughter.” She said, hoping to rid him of the obvious skepticism she saw in his expression.
“Oh, Ms. MacArthur.” He said in surprise, immediately changing his expression. “My apologies, you scared me for a moment there.”
“No need to apologize. I’m usually traveling, I’m hardly ever here so I understand.” She assured him, staring into his eyes.
She held onto his hand longer than she planned to, not noticing until his eyes darted down and back to her face.
“I’m sorry-“ She said, finally letting go of his hand. “-it’s just, your eyes are so beautiful.”
Terry looked down, blushing a bit.
“Thank you.” He said, returning his eyes to hers.
“You hear that a lot, I’m sure.”
“I do.”
“When did you start? I know I haven't been here in a while but I’d definitely remember seeing your face.” Khloé asked, shifting her weight onto her left leg.
“A few weeks ago actually.” He answered.
The eye contact was almost intimidating but Khloé wasn’t a woman who folded easily, even standing in the presence of this Earthly God.
“How you liking it so far?”
“It’s good. I’m still getting used to the scheduling, a lot of coffee in my diet lately but it’s pretty cool.”
“Not an early bird, huh?”
“No ma’am.” He turned to look back at the clock on the wall and she took this quick moment to get a close up of his chest, flexing as he turned. She bit down on her bottom lip before he could notice.
“I hate to be rude Ms. MacArthur-“
“Khloé” She interrupted.
His lip folded into a slight grin. “Khloe, I have to get back on the floor, my lunch is over. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” She smiled up at him as she watched him walk away, her eyes scanning the back of his body.
“That is an ass on that man.” She whispered to herself before heading back to her side of the warehouse.
4 hours later
“Another day, another couple hundred dollars, young blood.” Earl announced, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “You got plans for tonight, you know it’s “Free shot Friday’s” down at Frankie’s?”
“Nah I’m good man, I don’t drink much.” Terry said, placing both of his arms into the straps of his backpack.
“You know Terry’s a good guy-“ John, another man shouted from behind the two of them. “-he ain’t no drinker or smoker.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, that’s why he built like a gladiator and we walkin’ around with beer bellies.” Earl joked, receiving laughs from the other men in the locker room.
Terry chuckled, placing the last of his work items into his locker before leaving the locker room. The only thing left for him to do was clock out for the evening and head home.
“I see y’all boys on Monday, y’all be safe.” And with that Terry left the locker room, heading to his truck.
He reached into his pants pocket to grab his badge and swiped it across the small box designated for clock-ins/clock-outs.
He exited the building walking to his truck, relieved to be at the end of another workday. He searched his pockets for his keys unaware of the pair of eyes that had been on him the entire time he spent in the parking lot.
She watched the TV screen closely, each quadrant displaying different areas in the building and parking lot. It had been two years since she had been with anybody but this was the first time she had this type of craving for someone.
Sure she had flings here and there but this longing was so strong, she could practically feel him inside of her already. Like his energy was pulling on hers, begging her for connection.
Khloé could still smell his scent, the mixture of cologne and sweat as if he were standing right behind her. She could still see the thick veins in his arms, permanently in her memory. She couldn’t wait to find out if he had those same veins on his dick, licking her lips at the thought of feeling him along her tongue.
*Knock Knock*
She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts and grateful for it.
“Come in.”
“The night shift are all clocked in and at their stations, are you ready to go Ms. MacArthur?” Olivia asked, her large purse hanging off of her shoulder.
“Yes, let’s go.”
Khloé grabbed her purse, her keys and Terry’s employee work file and headed out of the office.
She paced back and forth in her living room, biting the insides of her cheeks. Her feet sank into the white plush rug as she read over the pages for the 10th time, trying to piece this man together.
She had been looking over Terry’s file for the past hour now. She studied every page, every background check, every piece of information they had on him but unfortunately it wasn’t much.
Walking over to her computer, she wiggled the mouse and slammed herself into her large desk chair that sat against her window. The heavily lit view of downtown shined lights through her windows along with the full moon up in the sky as she began her research.
“Terrance Richmond, former Marine, Born June 7, 1994.” She whispered to herself, typing each word as she spoke.
‘He’s 30, perfect.’ She thought.
She searched his name to see if she could find him on social media.
No Twitter.
No Facebook.
No Instagram.
“Who the fuck is this man?”
She continued searching, scrolling for what seemed like hours until she stumbled across an article for a small town called “Shelby Springs”. The article titled “Ex-Marine Exposes SSPD” caused her invisible antennas to perk up.
‘Former Marine, Terrance Richmond, helps stop corruption invading Shelby Springs. After officers unlawfully seized $36,000 from Richmond, the last of his savings intended for posting bail for his late cousin, Richmond took matters into his own hands. One man gets justice for himself, his cousin and others who were wrongfully convicted.’
“So he’s some sort of hero?” She licked her lips, smirking to herself. The fact that this one man had gone to war with a police department full of cops and won made her nipples hard.
She could feel the gears in her head begin to turn as she finished reading the article. Learning about his time in the Marines and him being trained in martial arts, he was the perfect candidate for her future escapades.
Images flashed in her mind. Images of her hands against his bare chest as she rode him, the view of him looking down on her while she went down on him, him sitting back and watching while she played with herself. Each scene sent a shiver down her spine. She crossed her legs tightly rubbing her thighs together to create a pleasureful friction.
Khloé didn’t want to fully pleasure herself just yet. She knew the build up would be so worth it, she could feel it. She needed to contain her desire for an orgasm. She wanted to be sure that he was the one to give it to her.
Shutting down her computer, she closed his file and placed it on the counter next to her purse. She went into her bathroom and started the shower turning the knob to the far right to make the water cold.
After about 15 minutes of washing up and bringing her arousal back down she prepared for bed. She got into her large queen sized bed, topped with a thick white comforter and smiled to herself…
so her mission begins.
to be continued…
#aaron pierre#aaron pierre fanfiction#aaron pierre x black fem reader#aaron pierre x black reader#rebel ridge#terry richmond#terry richmond fic#terry richmond x black!oc#aaron pierre fic#terry richmond x oc#terry richmond x black female reader#Terry Richmond x black fem reader
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Use Your Heart
terry richmond x black, fem! oc { amara hawthrone }
summary: after seven beautiful years together, building a life, and creating a family, the relationship comes to an end when Amara grows tired of waiting for Terry to propose.
warnings: ANGST, break up, mention of pregnancy, marriage, regret, past heartache, sad! terry, past relationship, original characters, twin daughters, words: 4k
note: this is my first OC fic, I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part.
{ playlist } use your heart by swv I get lonely by janet jackson my love lingers on by peter sivo band
Part 2
-
Terry Richmond and Amara Hawthrone have been together for seven beautiful years. They met as recruits for a secret agency named S.A.G.E.
The competitive tension between them was palpable, but as they collaborated on numerous missions, that rivalry blossomed into a deep and enduring love.
After three intense years as spy agents, they decided to take a long hiatus from work when they discovered they were expecting their first child togather.
Later, they learned they were having twins, two healthy baby girls. Fast-forward a few years, and Terry and Amara settled in the vibrant city of New Orleans.
Embracing the joys of parenthood and raising two beautiful four-year-old daughters. Their life seemed great, filled with happiness, laughter, and love.
However, Amara started to reflect on her life, and she longed for something she didn't think would happen. Amara was an outspoken woman; she always spoke her mind and told anyone how she felt.
Lately, she's questioned many things about her and Terry's love and relationship. She had to express her feelings, the burn inside her heart.
Amara's POV
I smiled happily, watching the twins take their afternoon nap peacefully and adorably. I closed the door and went to the living room to find Terry watching TV.
Terry smiled at me with warmth and sweetness. "Are they napping?" he asked, motioning for me to sit on the couch. I nodded and sat down next to him.
"Yeah, out like a light," I said with a smile. Terry nodded and turned his attention back to the TV, laughing. I followed his gaze, and "Living Single," our favorite show, was on.
I turned to my head to examine his face. "T, can I ask you something?" I asked. "You can ask me anything, baby?" Terry said, gently wrapped his arm around my shoulders with a warm smile.
"Do you love me?" I asked gently, reassuringly. Terry tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he focused intently on my eyes, searching in my expression.
"Yes, baby, I love you with all my heart and soul. I remind you how deeply I do every day, right?" he asked, waiting for my answer, and I said, "You do, Terry."
"And do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" I added another question. "Yes, yes, of course. What's going on?" Terry asked with concern.
"I'm just asking because it's been seven years of us being togather, and you haven't popped the question. How long are you gonna make me wait?" I asked, crossing my arms.
“Oh....I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Terry said, his voice softening. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I’m dragging my feet. I got my reasons, you know?”
I crossed my arms tighter, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “Reasons? What reasons, Terry? Seven, seven years of us being together, you never expressed your reasons."
I lifted myself from the couch and started to pace back and forth, my mind racing as I struggled to find the right words to protect his feelings but...
The room felt tense, and I could sense Terry’s concerned gaze. "You know you always talk about wanting more babies, but never once have you said you want to give me your last name?”
“Baby, look, I wanna get married, especially to you, but I'm not sure I'm ready yet?” Terry expressed straightforwardly, and my eye twitched a little.
“Not ready? What more do you need?” I shot back, my voice rising. You’ve seen me at my best and my worst. We love each other, and we are financially stable." I trailed off, taking a breath.
"...We have a house, and we're a family, and we've built a fucking life together. We're practically already husband and wife. Why can't we just make it official!"
Terry remains silent, simply listening. This lack of engagement truly frustrates me. I would prefer he share his thoughts or feelings rather than allow me to dominate the conversation.
"So what's stopping you, Terry? You act like the idea of getting married is some kind of weight you can’t handle. Just tell me the real reason. No excuses about needing time; time is running out,” I added.
“Look, I said, baby, I want to get married to you, but it just has to do with something in my past that's been-,” Terry starts with hesitation in his voice.
My heart jumped, and I sat beside them and touched his hand. His eyes hardened, fighting back and forth about whether to open up with me. "Terry, baby, whatever it is, you can trust-"
"No, just drop it!" Terry says, raising his voice. I removed my hand and stared at him, the hurt evident in my eyes and my voice shaking with emotion.
"Okay, then..."I said, getting up and moving towards our shared bedroom. Terry covered his face with his hands before getting up and making his way to her.
"I think we should take time apart. I can’t wait for you to decide if I’m worth being your wife when I've proven it, ” I said as I finished packing some clothes into a bag."
“Wait, what do you mean, time apart?” He stepped forward, desperation creeping into his tone. “I just mean what I said,” I replied, my tone not softening.
“Cause it feels like I’m the only one wanting something you don't want. And that’s not fair, Terry. You gotta figure it out whatever is haunting you.” I said, going to leave the bedroom, but he stopped me.
"I don’t want to lose you, Amara. I love you more than anything, and we can work through it; you're making an irrational decision right now," Terry said, desperation creeping into his voice.
“I'm not, Terry. You need to take some time to figure out your issues, which may mean being away from me for a bit,” I replied, my heart racing with sorrow and uncertainty.
Terry stepped closer, closing the distance between us, and pressed his forehead against mine. I felt his soft touch as the tears streamed down my cheeks, heavy with emotion.
He inhaled deeply, taking in my sweet, familiar scent that always made him feel safe. "Please, let’s talk this through, baby," he pleaded, his voice trembling with raw vulnerability.
I searched for the right words to respond, but no sound came out, leaving me in silence as I struggled to process everything. I walked out of the bedroom, the weight of my decision heavy on my shoulders.
Terry reached out, stopping me again before I could reach the twins' bedroom. He grasped my hand tightly, his fingers trembling against the warm, dark brown skin of my hand.
I looked into his greyish-blue eyes, which glistened with unshed tears and reflected a mix of desperation and sadness. His gaze searched my beautiful hazel-brown eyes.
Trying to find a spark of hope or a reason for me to reconsider. "Please!' Terry's voice quivered as he made one last heartfelt plea. Despite his earnest effort and the thick in the air, I knew I had to let go for now.
-
A few months later, I found myself in a stressful state that I had kept hidden for the twins' sake. This whole breakup was quite heart-aching.
I especially despised explaining the recent changes in our new living situation to my daughters. Sophie and Odette's curiosity was challenging, and I struggled to find the right words to comfort them.
Now that Terry and I are no longer together, I only communicate with him about the twins and establish effective co-parenting. I'm not the type of mother who prevents the children from seeing their father.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Terry had arrived to take the girls for the weekend and mentioned wanting to take them to the park for a picnic.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear what he said. "Do you want to come?" Terry asked with a hopeful smile. "Terry, no. I'm fine," I replied, shaking my head.
"You go and have fun with the girls. They miss you," I added with a small smile while handing him their stuff. "Right!" He nodded, taking the stuff out of my hands with a disappointed look.
I sighed, noticing his expression, but shook my head and went to get the girls. They ran out of the bedroom towards their daddy, and Terry knelt to greet them.
Their faces lit up like sunshine breaking through clouds. “Hey, there, my princesses!” he said, pulling them into a warm embrace. They giggled in delight, their little arms wrapping around him tightly.
“Daddy!” they squealed in unison, pulling away from the hug to look at his face. “Are we going to the park?” Odette asked with a tooth missing in her grin.
“Of course! yeah, and I've got the whole weekend planned out for us,” Terry replied, his smile infectious. “Mommy, are you coming too?” Sophie asked, looking at me as her voice was laced with hopefulness.
I stepped in to keep the atmosphere light, even if my heart felt heavy. “No, baby girl, Mommy’s got some stuff to do today,” I said, keeping a steady tone.
"Yeah...that means it’s all about three of us today! We’re gonna have a blast,” Terry said, caressing their twist-braid hairstyle. They giggled again, their joy bubbling.
“Mommy, are you sad?” Odette asked, her big hazel eyes wide with concern, and I knelt beside her, cupping her cheek and keeping my expression warm.
“No, Dotty, don't worry about me. You go have fun with your Daddy. I'm fine, I promise. Plus, I'm a call away if you need anything, okay?” I explained.
“Okay, Mommy!” they chirped, reassured. Terry gave me a gentle look; the tension between us was still palpable but softened by the girls’ laughter.
“Are you all ready to go?” he asked playfully, extending his hand towards them. They squealed with excitement and bounced on their toes as he led them outside.
I waved goodbye by the front door. “Have fun, you three! Don’t forget to take lots of pictures!” I said with a fake smile. “Will do!” Terry replied, shooting me a glance.
For the sake of the girls, we both put on brave faces, knowing that they deserved the best from their parents, even though we still had work to do in co-parenting.
With one final wave, they drove away. I closed the door behind me, walked to the couch, and sat down, staring into space until I bursted into tears.
-
It's been four months since the breakup, and I felt increasingly miserable as each day passed. I continued to hide my pain behind a fake smile.
My love for Terry had not changed; it remained unwavering. I had devoted seven years to that man, and I often wondered if I had been more patient; perhaps things wouldn't have turned out this way.
I found myself alone, cursing his name, feeling an intense wave of resentment as I reflected on how he never communicated his actual issues about getting married.
It seemed like he buried his fears deep inside, leaving me to guess this hesitation alone. I thought about the situation, considering the pros and cons.
On the positive side, Terry was undeniably a fantastic boyfriend. He was a loving, sweet, reliable, thoughtful, responsible, and faithful man.
Of course, he was an amazing and loving father to our kids. However, despite these admirable qualities, doubts crept into my mind, and his communication on this one thing frustrated me.
Yet, I often questioned whether ending our relationship was the right decision or if I had acted too impulsively. The more I pondered, the more I was drawn to the negative parts.
I took a moment to clear my mind, pushing away the swirling thoughts that occupied my head. Just then, my friend Aisha knocked on the door.
She stepped through the door with a warm smile, and her vibrant energy instantly filled the room. Her presence lifted my spirits and created a sense of comfort.
I opened up about what's been going on with me, the breakup, and Terry, and she was honest. "Look, I get it but you gotta let that man go, Amara. You know your worth."
I sighed, running a hand through my long, curly hair. "I know, I know. It's just hard. We spent seven years together, and the love is still there. I miss him, I miss us, I miss our family, And now…"
Aisha nodded, her expression softening. "You gotta focus on you and your daughters. Let him figure out his issues; if he really wanted you, he'd be fightin' to keep you, not out here doing whatever."
"Maybe...you're right," I said, a little fired up by her words. "But it just stings, you know? I keep thinkin' back to the good things, and I wonder if it was wrong to end it."
I added, "Like, what if he finds someone better? What if-?" I trailed off, not trying to finish that thought. Aisha grabbed my hand, looking straight into my eyes.
"Listen, ain't nobody better than you, Amara. You're a whole baddie; you have to believe that. I'm sure when Terry gets shit together and hopefully comes correct." Aisha said honestly.
"You deserve the whole package: the husband, the ring, and the last name. You are wifey material," she added. "You're right," I said, pulling myself together.
"I know. How about we put on some music, drink wine, and vibe?" she said, pulling a wine bottle from her bag and making me laugh for the first time in weeks.
-
Meanwhile, Terry settled into his parents' cozy living room, and giggles echoed off the walls. His twin daughters were sprawled on the floor.
Lost in a world of toys and laughter with their grandpa, who delighted in their antics. Terry leaned back on the couch, his mind heavy with thoughts of Amara.
Terry stared at a picture of the two of them; he missed her so much and knew he had messed up badly. His mother noticed the distant look in his eyes.
She paused her knitting and looked at her son, who was staring at his phone intensely. “Terry, are you alright, baby?” Terry took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face.
“No, Ma. Things ain’t been easy since the breakup with Amara, I messed up.” He expressed, looking at her, “No, shit, son,” She started, her voice gentle but firm.
“You need to go talk to her and stop this foolishness. Tell her the truth, and stop letting the past weigh you down. It's not fair to Amara.” His mother said.
Terry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck while glancing at Sophie and Odette, who giggled as their grandpa pretended to be a monster. “I know. I know I’m just….”
His mother set her knitting aside, leaning forward, her eyes sharp. “Terrance James Richmond, Look at me," he said, looking back at his mother with despair.
“You gotta talk to Amara, baby. Tell her about your past relationship with Leia; she deserves to know. You can’t just be sittin’ here all mopey when deep down, you know you gotta be honest with her.” She says.
Terry shifted uncomfortably, covering the scuffed beard he'd been growing with his hand.
"I know, Ma, but....you know my history with Leia left me hurt; it took me a long time to heal and trust again. I buried what she did deep in my mind. It’s just... complicated."
“Whether it’s complicated or not, you have to be honest with her. Amara deserves to hear the full truth, no matter how difficult it might be to share, baby,” his mother urged gently,
Her voice softened as she spoke, knowing how heavy the burden of secrets could be. She hoped Terry would understand the importance of transparency in his relationship with Amara.
“What Leia did to you, that’s more than just a scratch on your heart; it’s a deep wound, and holding onto it ain't help you move forward with Amara." His mother said.
She added, "You two have been together for seven years. That’s a long time, son. You can’t let your past ruin what could be something beautiful now.”
Terry sighed, glancing down at the floor. “I just...I don’t want her to see me as weak or broken. I don’t want her to think...." He trails off, trying to hold his emotions.
“Oh..baby boy,” his mother leaned closer, her voice taking on a bit of a comforting tone. “Amara ain't gonna see you as weak. If anything, she’s gonna respect you more for being real with her."
"You need to let her in. She deserves to know why you have been hesitant. You think she doesn’t see that somethin’ ain’t right? She’ll empathize with your fears once the truth is out.” His mother says.
Terry ran a hand over his face again, wiping the tears and contemplating her words. “You really think it could help? That it could change things?”
“I know it can, Terry. You gotta stop carrying that baggage alone. The hurt from Leia ain’t gonna disappear unless you deal with it. Talk to Amara about it, and share how it affected you....” his mother urged, her expression earnest and warm.
"She’s not just your girlfriend; she’s your wife. Let her be that for you. Put a ring on it, boy. it's been seven years, seven Terry. You have been holding onto that pain for long enough. So talk to her, baby. Just be honest and let it all out there.”
Terry sat there, processing his mother’s words, the weight of her advice sinking in. He wanted to be a better man, but the memories of Leia had been like chains holding him back.
“You’re right, Ma. I can’t let this keep me from Amara. She deserves more than that,” Terry said, and his mother nodded, a small smile breaking across her face.
“There you go, baby. It ain’t just about you anymore; it’s about your family, too. You gotta get out there and claim what’s yours.” His mother said, and he stood up and felt a spark of determination ignite.
“Open your heart and be straight with her. Let her know what you’ve been dragging around. It won’t be easy, but if you love her like I know you do, you’ll fight for her.”
He took a deep breath. “You're right, mama. I’m gonna do it. I’mma go see her.”
“Good. And don’t forget, you’re not weak in expressing your emotions or issues. You’re strong for bein’ vulnerable. That takes a real man.” She said with an encouraging smile.
“Thanks, Ma,” Terry said, giving her a genuine smile. “I appreciate you always keepin’ it real with me.”
“You know I’m always here for you, baby. Now go get my future daughter-in-law,” she encouraged, and he chuckled.
“You think you and Dad can watch the girls for me while I go?” he asked, his voice reassuring.
“Yeah, we've got 'em,” she replied, her eyes bright with understanding. "Thanks again, Ma,” Terry said with a smile, kissing her cheek.
“Of course, baby. Now go on,” she teased lightly, squeezing his hand as she released him. Terry breathed, gathering strength before leaving and hoping Amara would listen.
Terry headed out; he rehearsed what he would say. Once in his car, he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his mind racing with the thought of confronting his fears.
Once Terry parked outside the house they once shared, a mix of nerves, hope, and determination bubbled inside him. He stepped out and took a moment to gather his thoughts.
As Terry stood at the front door, he felt the importance of their seven years' worth of memories and love crashing down on him like a tidal wave.
His heart raced, each beat echoing their shared joyful and painful moments. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he knocked lightly, the sound resonating in the stillness of the evening.
The door creaked open after what felt like an eternity, revealing Amara. Her wide eyes reflected surprise and hesitation as if she were unsure whether to welcome him in or shut the door.
"Terry?" she breathed, her voice trembling slightly with confusion and a hint of guardedness. It was clear she hadn’t expected to see him standing there without twins. What could he possibly want?
cliffhanger, sorry lol! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part.
#terry richmond#terry richmond x oc#terry richmond x black oc#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x black female oc#terry richmond fanfiction#terry richmond fic#aaron pierre#terry richmond angst#terry richmond x black fem oc#terry richmond x black!reader#terry richmond x reader#terry richmond x black fem reader
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Back to Bed Pt. 2
Summary: Terry and Y/N had been married for just over 7 years with 3 beautiful children and a blooming self defense business they’d built together to show for it. Having started their relationship at the beginning of Y/N’s journey into discovering her submissiveness and Terry’s first stationing as an instructor - Terry had been her only dom and thus knew her like the back of his hand and Y/N has been the only sub to experience the harshest version of his dom giving her the same privilege over him. Having been pregnant with their baby girl upon coming home to the Sandy Springs situation, Terry has been using it as an excuse, too afraid to lean all the way into his dom personality the way he had with Y/N before his last tour.
After they get into an argument, again, about the events of Silver Springs and how even after the last few years of stitching their life back together, he still only talked to Summer about everything that happened and was handling her with kid gloves, Y/N separates from him best she can. Completely at a crossroads of what to do to feel like she’s still her husband’s wife and losing all the fight to try and figure it out, she gives Terry the silent treatment and isolates from him, doing her best to only be in the same room with him when the kids are. After weeks of her barely acknowledging him or the argument, Terry is tired of going to bed alone when his wife is sleeping in the guest room right below him. His plan? Let the dom in him handle it and finally confess his monsters.
WARNINGS: 18+ themes, Minors DNI, d/s themes, smut, angst
A/N: I almost forgot to tag folks, literally stayed up all night finishing this part. Charge it to my head not my heart.
Tags: @kirayuki22 @blyffe @scorpiosaintt @kaylaahisthebestest- @captainwithoutmakingitlove @nayaesworld
A/N: Thank you to all the Terry girls out there that have created a monster in me for this man in literally less than a week. Story inspired by @megamindsecretlair ‘s “I Swear I’ll Never Leave” oneshot and @keyaho ‘s “R.E.L.L.S.” series.
A/N: There will be at least one more part. Kinda proofread, sorry in advance for any mistakes.
Just as he had finished the thought staring down at her with his arms folded and his mind racing with all the ways he could have this night go, she delivered exactly the push that would make him give them what they both needed, obviously.
“Just because I’m down here giving you all sorts of ideas, doesn’t mean I’m going to comply just like that.”
He raised a lone eyebrow and responded, “Is that so kitten?”
Y/N nodded her head, causing Terry to tighten his hands around his folded forearms. It was something small, but now that they understood each other and were officially in the scene he knew that she knew what that answer meant. He held his hand up to his ear and said, “come again kitten?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes that is so.”
“You testing me mama?” Terry asked while holding her chin to keep their gazes locked.
Y/N shrugged and struggled to keep her smirk entirely off her face as she moved her face right out of his grasp, seeing the exact reaction she’d been hoping for flash behind his eyes.
Terry grabbed her hair by the base of her neck and yanked harshly, leaning into her face as close as possible while he practically snarled out, “You will use your words.”
Y/N smiled blatantly now, what could be considered a demented smile, raising an eyebrow as if to mock his signature move with her, and replied, “Or what?”
“Or what?” Terry repeated confused and baffled by the audacity his kitten was showing. He’d already told her how close to snapping he’d been, warned her of the dangers of interacting with him in this state, and she still chose to provoke him. His mind couldn’t wrap his head around the minx that was kneeled before him, it seemed he wasn’t the only one hiding a different beast. She was usually always so compliant, even when being bratty it was easy to get her to fold to his commands, but not now. “Or what?” he repeated again, more so as a statement as he loosed the grip he had on her hair to rub the base of her skull.
The second he watched those beautiful eyes close accompanied by the sound of the barest of moans, he slapped her face 3 times in a row, open palmed like before. When her eyes and mouth popped open, his finger fucked her throat with 3 of his fingers until she was a slobbery mess. He’d pressed down on her tongue, effectively gagging her, leaned in close to her face and licked from her top lip back to her ear to grasp it between his teeth.
“You bout to find out and I don’t want no sounds out of you except ones of pleasure, mine and yours.”
Y/N smiled at him when he pulled away to look at her again but it quickly dissipated when his became sinister. “I’m bout to fuck you so good you beg me to stop and I’m going to keep,” he slapped her face one, “goin,” a second slap made her cream her panties, soaking through to the sleep shorts covering them.
He didn’t have to see it to know it because he knew her expressions, had learned them thoroughly over the years enough to know her involuntary orgasm face. It was his favorite afterall. Terry let his wet fingers slip out of her mouth and immediately put his dick in while it was stil hanging open. Despite having plans to tie her down and fuck her sensely in their bedroom, something about this moment made him desperate to have this.
As soon as Y/N lifted her hands to hold onto his hips he popped the side of her face. “You already know what time it is mama, stop testing me.”
It really wasn’t fair how he was holding a one-sided conversation with her knowing damn well that she couldn’t respond, only react. He was using everything he knew about Y/N against her and this was the one arena that she welcomed his attention to detail. Her pussy couldn’t stop clenching around nothing since he let out that ‘fuck’ earlier.
Only thing Terry was focused on was his nut and her compliance. Despite clenching her fists at her sides for a bit with no problem she had the audacity to reach for his pussy. HIS pussy!
He pulled himself from the depths of her throat and pulled her to stand by the grasp he suddenly had on it so fast that Y/N officially couldn’t think anymore. Even the following slap barely registered as her fight or flight responses pulled her psyche in separate directions. One part of her trying to witness the moment from outside her body while the other wanted to lean into all the sensations he was making her feel.
“You acting up a little too much for my liking kitten, let’s fix that huh?”
Terry grasped her arm and turned her over his knee, using his foot to sweep her off of hers as he sat, in such a swift motion that she couldn't have counteracted it if she tried. Gathering the second arm into the same hand that had the other at the base of her spine he got right to work. He’d gotten to his 6th blow before her body tensed up from finally feeling them all at once. Terry was not being gentle and she knew in this moment that he was definitely going to mark her every way he can, starting with the bruises that were sure to start appearing on her ass in a few hours. He let her ride out the sensations for a few moments, rubbing her butt with all the love and care he had for her before he was back to quick pops. By the time he stopped the 3rd time, he’d reached 25 and she was on the precipice of an orgasm if her moans were any indication, but he didn’t want that just yet.
“Why you actin’ up so much, huh?”
Y/N was on a high that just kept going up with every second under his hands. She had never experienced her subspace like this before and she was greedy for more. There was a small part of her that asked what if she pushed too far, but it wasn’t loud enough to stop her from looking back at him with fresh tears in her eyes from her most recent punishment, opening her mouth to say, “maybe you just don’t how to punish me.”
If she thought he looked menacing before, that was nothing compare to the monster that appeared as he rained 5 more slaps that were far slower and far heavier on her ass cheeks. She wanted to keep looking him in the eyes, happy to see this hidden side of him, but she had no control over her body as she came again, eyes and head rolling, muscles tightening. She could swear he’d shown her the universe with the way the darkness behind her eyes lit up.
#fictioninmybloodworks#fictioninmyblood#black fanfic writer#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x y/n#terry richmond x black reader#terry richmond fanfiction
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I Hope Part 3 - Terry Richmond x Black OC
Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)
(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)
Summary: Terry finds himself a change of scenery to after the events of Rebel Ridge
Warnings/Things of Note: I made him cry 😭🤣 (idk i just feel like that’s important; THE MAN IS GRIEVING!!!)
Word count: 3K+ (3,093)
Author’s Note: Thank you for your patience. After I made my last post I was like lemme try and polish it, but then I added more and then i fell asleep. Been fighting sleep tryna finish this part. I dont like how this part ends because it doesn’t have all the descriptions I wanted but it’s part 3 complete and onto part 3. im also trying to not let myself not sharing anything because Imma be holding on it to it for who knows how long cuz life is beating my butt😵💫
So canonically, Terry was born in 1992. And they wrapped up filming in July 2022. A lot of folks have been using 30 for Terry’s age since thats how old Aaron is. And so i was like okay cuz in my mind this takes place a few months after Rebel Ridge and so i used the time period to my advantage and make it an important part of the story
So we are throwing it back a bit in time to start at the beginning of their story. I was rereading it like oh shit damn i did do something frfr but we gotta go chronologic for this to work.
It’s kinda proofread but i be missing words when i type (also its 2:30 in the morning so idk its probably mistakes in there) Comments and critiques are welcome 🤗
don’t do too much tho🌚 cuz apparently yall think you can talk to people anyhow on this internet.
Anyways. Enjoy. ☺️
Fall 2022
Terry was making his way to the library. He needed a place to charge his phone and to think before heading to his final destination to meet her. Sun shining, skin glistening with sweat and pedaling hard to the tune of metal, he focused on where he was going. And what his next steps would be.
He wanted something different. Something better. He was trying to be better. Someone new. He’d been out of the military for almost 5 years now. And for the past 2, he’d been trying to shed that skin. To cut those ties and be someone new. A man and not a machine.
It’s why he found himself not at home but more than 2000 miles away from it. Away from what happened some months ago. The grief he was holding was too much. The very much preventable death of his favorite cousin. The future he envisioned for the both of them and what was to come instead. The loss of camaraderie and brotherhood of his fellow Marines while also knowing he needed to get out while he still could.
With his desired destination now in full view, he eased his pace a bit, preparing to slow down and eventually stop. The music in his ears was coming to a crescendo when he finally got off of his bike. He pulled his blue backpack for the lock and began the short walk to the bike locker. He hoisted it upward to fit in the rack with the other bikes.
After closing the locker, he decided to take a swig of water while looking at the landscape before him. Body turned to face the direction he’d previously came from. He was taking in the urban landscape, a concrete jungle lined with palm trees. A different view from the country back home. After taking the moment to center himself, Terry decided to enter the library.
He was making his way through the sliding doors, being met with the building’s cool air immediately. And when the song he was listening to faded, a different melody came through but it wasn’t from his phone. It was someone speaking. A smooth and gentle voice that resonated with Terry strongly. The person was saying something about frozen food. He took his buds out, ear by ear, to see where the voice was coming from. Hearing it in fullness and clarity, the feeling of resonance grew inside of him. Almost like recognition.
“So when we’re shopping for food, it can seem difficult to try and eat healthier. The fresh fruits and veggies seem to be more expensive than other items. So it makes sense that we want to go for what’s cheaper. Especially if we have mouths to feed,” said the voice.
A chorus of agreement in yeses, yups, and mhmms came from the direction of the voice.
“That’s why I like to get some of mine from the freezer.”
The chorus sounded again in wonder, confusion and intrigue. Terry’s interest was piqued too. Since he was going to start figuring out all this for himself again, he might as well listen. He finally looked and faced his body in the group’s direction, standing straight with hands crossed in front of him at attention. And she had it. The group’s conductor captivated him immediately. He didn’t know why but it felt important.
Her hair was in low puff and covered by a magenta bandanna. Translucent lavender glasses were the gateway to deep, dark brown cat eyes, lined in black. Terry couldn’t help but be drawn in by their allure. Thin, gold oversized hoops framed her face and gave warmth to her deep brown skin. The rest of it was covered by a white mask with light blue straps.
That actually gave him pause. Was he supposed to be wearing one? Maybe he missed a sign, distracted by the captivating conductor. Performing a quick scan, he hadn’t seen one, nor many other patrons wearing them as well. He’d spotted maybe 4 or 5 people outside the seated group and conductor. Some wore thin, black and light blue ones. Others wore more sturdy-looking ones? People had them in different colors—white, black, pink green. Maybe he could ask someone for one or why they were still wearing them.
Terry was dedicated to listening. He really was. She was talking to these folks about trying to eat good while stretching a dollar. Especially because he was gonna be staying in this expensive ass place for a minute. He was taking in all the details. Including the woman’s orange crochet cardigan and the white ribbed shirt stretched over her large chest. The white shirt was tucked into black yoga pants, waistband showcasing her soft, round belly. At a certain point, she’d put her hand on her hip; the orange cardigan behind her elbow now showing her wide set hips and full thighs that clung to the fabric. The rest of the material flared out at her knees over white light brown running shoes.
Terry heard something about freezing cooked rice. Something something starch profile. But it was the woman’s that had him at attention. He couldn’t see behind her but…he was NOT supposed to be checking out this random stranger in a random place. Being captivated by a masked maiden or whatever, this was neither the time nor place but damn she was everything.
Terry had thought these thoughts were all in his head, until the library worker behind him cleared their throat loudly for the audience of the one and only Terry Richmond. He was blushing with embarrassment and mortification, turning to meet the worker behind him. He smiled nervously and hoped the apology in his eyes came through. So much for trying to better man.
“I’m sorry about that. Is there a place I can charge my phone,” he asked while adjusting his backpack.
The worker pointed in the opposite direction of Savannah and her group. “You can go over there.” The worker was wearing a thin, black mask so he couldn’t see the bottom half of their face. But the expression in their eyes made it clear that he could actually go to hell, needed to keep it pushing and do so expeditiously. “Thank you,” Terry peered down at the worker’s badge to see their name, “Casey,” and made his way to get some juice for his phone.
Terry found an empty spot at a desk, back towards the wall and face towards the rest of the library. He could see the place with a much wider vantage point, but the conductor from earlier now out of his range. He ought to feel ashamed of himself and he did. Terry shook his head and sighed. He took a few calming breaths. In and out. In and out. Feeling a bit more comfortable, he pulls out his phone and charger, plugging it into the wall. He unlocks his phone to look at the address saved in his phone for the hundredth time. As if he hadn’t memorized it by heart. One of his safe spaces. Being with her. Figuring out what he’s going to say to her and how everything will work when he sees her again for the first time since the funeral.
He plugs in the library’s address to calculate the distance between the two of them. It was only 37 minutes. Not too bad surprisingly. Although, that might change whenever his phone got to 100 percent. His auntie had told him to be wary about the traffic. That he should overestimate at least 30 minutes to 1 hour for wherever he wanted to go, because you never knew how far you’d be set back and you never wanted to tempt fate.
He couldn’t wait to see her again. It’d only been 3 months since Mike’s funeral. A couple more since the life altering events of Shelby Springs.
— - - -
The navigation on his phone alerted Terry that his auntie’s house was coming up soon on the right. He decided to stop the bike and walk with it to the front door. The closer he got to the familiar grey house, the more he
felt the dam of emotions begin give. He walked the bike up the driveway and set it between the garage door and the big truck. Stopping in front of the red door, he drew in a few deep breaths. He was trying to steady his nerves. Terry didn’t want to break down in front of the woman’s steps. At least not in public, he didn’t want to embarrass the woman. When felt ready enough, he rapped 4 times into the hollow of the white door.
Terry heard movement from the other side, and then the clicking of locks. The door opened to reveal a woman with golden brown skin and salt-and-pepper curls. She was wearing a green blouse with wide-legged white pants and brown strappy sandals. Her eye color matched Terry’s green-blue-grey. There was no mistaking that he and Taylor Richmond were cut from the same cloth. Upon seeing her, he hugged Taylor immediately. Terry was lost in the feeling of her, the smell of her—a signature brown sugar and cinnamon. It reminded him that this was a safe space. That he could be himself here—no questions, no judgement; no putting him on a pedestal, calling him a hero; no pity and no blame from others who weren’t there.
Her nephew didn’t even let her get a word out. Taylor only let out a yelp of surprise before embracing her nephew back and chuckling. His hold on her was tight. Good lord, this boy, she thought. When she heard the sob that ripped through Terry though…oh Lord, this boy. She pulled back slightly to get a look at him. His eyes were a sea of sorrow and ache. Even in this vulnerable state, she sensed relief in him letting it out. His frame was still slightly bowed from embracing hers. She held his face in her hands.
“Well, hello to you too. If you missed me that bad, you should’ve told me to pick you up at the airport,” she said with a raised brow and wiped his tears with her thumbs. That made Terry chuckle.
“Hi, Auntie,” he said, “And I’m sorry. I didn’t want to put you out.”
“Terry, you’re literally staying in my house for God knows how long. And you’re my nephew. I’m not braving that traffic to the airport for just anybody,” Taylor said with a furrowed brow.
Terry turned his head from his auntie so he’d have space to roll his eyes, mostly at himself. Taylor caught him though. She lightly tapped him in the center of his chest with the back of her freshly manicured hands, bangles ringing in unison.
“Now, you stop all that and get in here,” Taylor said in a mocking tone.
“Yes, ma’am,” Terry obliged with a few nods, wiping at his eyes again for good measure and tugged on his backpack straps.
He followed his aunt and crossed the threshold of her home, making sure to remove his shoes before he ventured further and placed his backpack down. Taylor was making her way to the kitchen, where he guessed she was earlier before announcing his arrival. Terry took a moment to admire some of the living room. It had a grey sectional with a maroon throw blanket draped across its back. The walls were decorated with photos of his family over the years, his auntie and uncle in different places around the world, a photo of him and Mike as kids playing in the front yard caught his eye. He walked toward the picture and reached up for it. He ghosted his hand over the frame and glass and stared at it in awe and remembrance. Terry felt his aunt’s gaze on him before she spoke.
“I remember that summer clear as day. You two were a menace with those water balloons,” Taylor said, the sounds of wooden spatula hitting the edge of a pot rang through the space.
Terry looked over his shoulder at his aunt, a look of disbelief with a hint of mischief behind it.
“I wouldn’t really say menace,” he said, trailing off a bit.
“Please, the neighbors gave me and your uncle hell over it,” Taylor exclaimed, pointing the spatula at Terry through the view space of the breakfast bar and upper cabinets, “especially because you got a lot of the other kids involved in that scheme. An entire summer, you two planned that out,” Taylor said shaking her head, while returning some spices to the cabinet.
“Well, you told us to make friends and that’s exactly what we did!” Terry said with a laugh, quickly turning back to the wall to return the frame. The laugh left a smile that brought wrinkles to the edges of his eyes. Taylor was happy to see it. It was a genuine one. And she missed seeing it on her nephew’s face.
Taylor playfully rolled her eyes and gestured for Terry to sit counter.
“Come over here and wash up. I know you’re hungry.”
Terry bounced over to his aunt, joining her in the kitchen and washing his hands. He reached up and across for plates and utensils from muscle memory. Terry waited for his aunt to make her plate to then make his own (she wouldn’t let him when he offered). He opened the fridge for 2 bottles of water, and balanced them with his plate and their utensils. He then went to join her at the dining table.
After a quick prayer over the food, the two dug in. Terry groaned in satisfaction and appreciation. He missed good food like this. He could cook himself, but a big part that made the food good was that his Auntie Taylor put her heart and soul into the food she made; and did every time but he felt and knew she made this specifically for him.
“Thank you, Auntie. For the food and letting me stay here with you for a while,” Terry said graciously.
“Of course, baby. It’s nothing at all. It’ll be nice to have another person ‘round here,” Taylor said with her fork in hand, using it to emphasize the space they were in. “And besides, I’m not gonna be the only one in that kitchen. All them years working with Mr. Liu and Ken, I know you got some good meals in that brain of yours. And you’ll also be buying groceries. Lord knows the last time you were here, you almost ate us out of house and home.”
“Okay. So, rent and groceries. I can do that,” Terry agreed.
“No, I don’t need your money for rent. You keep that.” Taylor said firmly
Terry stared his aunt down, but Taylor Elise Richmond was better. So Terry stood down.
“Yes, ma’am.” he said lowly, scratching the back of his neck. He hadn’t said it under his breath, only accepting his aunt at her word. She was a reasonable woman but a staredown with her would always be a losing battle, a lesson he’d learned spending many summers here in her home.
“Now, you’ll stay in the backhouse. I put fresh sheets and towels down for you,” Taylor began. “You can enter it through the gate by the driveway. It’s got everything over there, except washer and dryer.” She stood from the table and grabbed a set of keys from the counter. “These are yours. Please do not lose them.” Terry nodded at her.
“Hmm…let’s see what else am I forgetting?” Taylor said tapping her pointing index finger against her chin. “I can’t think of anything else right,” Taylor added as she turned head to the kitchen clock.
“Oh shoot,” Taylor exclaimed. “I gotta go drop a plate of food to my neighbor.”
“Here, let me do it. I’ll clear the table and make the plate,” Terry offered after getting out of his chair and began do what he said. “I know you did a lot, preparing everything for me when I got here. So I got it.”
Taylor sighed at herself mostly. Her nephew was a persistent and she was a bit tired.
“Okay,” she relented, leaning against the counter with her hands up in mock surrender. Taylor watched as Terry put the leftover food in a plastic Tupperware container. He removed the pots and pants from the stove and placed them in the sink to soak.
Terry rounded the corner to meet his aunt at the counter. He picked the keys up.
“So, which way am I going?” he asked her.
“Just right across. It’ll be the house with the red flower decorations,” Taylor responded.
“Thank you,”
“No, thank you.”
Terry headed to the front door with the food in hand. He set it down quickly on the entry table to put on his shoes.
“Oh, one more thing,” Taylor went to meet him up front. She reached for the first drawer of the plastic chest nestled under the table and pulled. Returning to a neutral position, she placed a black face mask on the lid.
Terry glanced down at the item.
“They sick over there or something?”
“No. Well, something like that. It’s just better for her, when we go over there.”
Terry nodded and put the mask on. Taylor unlocked the door for him and gestured to his delivery destination across the street.
“I’ll be back real soon,” Terry said, kissing his aunt on the cheek.
Now on the sidewalk, he checked both sides of the street for traffic before cutting across. He spotted the house with the red flower directions and knocked on the door 3 times. He heard a voice call out, “Coming!”. Terry was tapping his thumbs on the top of the container when he realized he forgot the poor neighbor’s name. His aunt had told him but it slipped from his short-term memory. When the lock clicked, he resolved he’d ask the nice, older lady.
The door opened and he went to introduce himself but he was stopped in his tracks.
“Hi,” the woman said. “You must be Terry?”
Terry nodded, “Yes, how’d you know that?”
“Your aunt. She said a nephew was staying over, that and your eyes. You two are definitely the same. Thank you for bringing this over.” the woman said. “And my name is Savannah,” she added, holding her hand out for a handshake.
It wasn’t just any woman. It was his conductor from the library earlier today. And now he knew her name.
Thanks for reading! Until next time😇
————-
Big big shoutouts to @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @earthchica @theereina @brattyfics @uzumaki-rebellion @sweettea-and-honeybutter @mymindisneverhere yall are fantastic your writing has shown me that i can push myself and im capable of writing more and like get in my craft frfr recently 🙂↕️🙂↕️
#slutsareteacherstoo#atiya writes#terry x savannah#terry richmond#terry richmond x black female reader#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond fic#terry richmond fanfiction#terry richmond x black oc#rebel ridge fics
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Welcome to the Neighbourhood | Terry Richmond
pairings: neighbour!terry richmond x neighbour!black reader
warnings: smut 18+, fluff, slow burn (if you squint), slightly rough/dom!terry - lmk if you think i missed anything else
summary: ready to put shelby springs behind him, terry ventures to start afresh - new job and new neighbourhood but the last thing he was expecting was to have an attractive neighbour waltz in and send his head spinning
word count: 5.4K
Shelby Springs had taken everything from him—his peace, his purpose, his faith in people. But Terrance Richmond wasn’t a man to let the past define him. He had to rebuild, brick by brick, until there was nothing left of the anger, pain, or memories that weighed him down. Once he’d made his peace, routine became his salvation. If there was one thing Terry wasn’t, it was idle.
Standing at 6’2, with muscles that didn’t come from sitting still, he carried himself with the discipline of a former Marine. He threw himself into rebuilding his life with the same focus, which is why the executive protection job posting felt like fate. It was an opportunity to start over. A new job, a new city—it wasn’t nature like he was used to, but he wasn’t about to say no to a clean slate.
The last of the moving boxes sat stacked on his driveway, waiting to be carried inside. As Terry hoisted one of the heavier ones, headlights flashed across his yard, catching his attention. His eyes followed the movements of a woman stepping out of a car, her keys in hand. If his hands hadn’t instinctively tightened around the box, the fine China inside would’ve been in pieces on the pavement.
Damn. She was... striking. The kind of striking that rooted a man to the spot and left his thoughts a tangled mess.
The pantsuit she wore clung to her figure in all the right ways, while soft curls framed her face like a work of art. Then she smiled, and he was done for.
She approached with a confident stride, her voice soft but laced with a teasing edge that only added to her allure. “Hey,” she said, flashing him an easy smile—the kind that could charm just about anyone. “Looks like they finally found someone to take the place. Congrats. I’m in a rush right now, but I get off work at 6. I’ll swing by to properly introduce myself—if that’s cool with you?”
Terry fumbled between a nod and a simple word of agreement, finally managing a quick, “Yeah, sounds good,” before she turned and climbed into her car.
She waved as she drove off, a soft giggle escaping her lips.
She knew she had a wicked flirt game, and today’s outfit choice was clearly the right one. As she headed to the office, an unusually good mood accompanied her. She couldn’t help but think about her new neighbour—broad shoulders, brooding eyes, and a quiet intensity that lingered even in their brief interaction.
Her curiosity burned through the day like a steady flame. Who was he? What was his story? And most importantly, would he be sticking around?
Terry tried to shake her out of his head as he tackled the last of the boxes. But it was no use. Her voice, her smile—they’d already sunk into his mind, leaving him restless and curious. 6 o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.
The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the neighbourhood, when YN pulled into her driveway, a sense of anticipation bubbling in her chest. Work had been exhausting, but the thought of properly meeting her new neighbour had been the highlight of her day. She stepped into her house, kicked off her heels, and immediately headed for the shower. The warm water was a welcome relief, washing away the day's tension and leaving her feeling refreshed.
Dressed in something comfortable yet flattering—because first impressions mattered, even if she wasn’t technically trying—YN made her way into the kitchen. Cooking was a distraction, a way to channel her nerves into something productive. She whipped up a quick but hearty meal, pairing it with some baked goods she’d had stashed away. It was a neighbourly gesture, sure, but she’d also seen him. And let’s just say that the mysterious, rugged man across the street had piqued her curiosity.
Balancing the food containers carefully in her hands, YN walked across to his house. The porch light was on, a warm glow illuminating the otherwise quiet street. She knocked twice, stepping back as she waited.
Inside, Terry had been pacing his living room for the past fifteen minutes, glancing at the clock and then the front door as if he could will someone to show up. He’d told himself it was silly, but the memory of their brief interaction that morning had stayed with him all day. She was charming, poised, and stunning, and the idea of seeing her again had stirred something in him he couldn’t quite name.
When the knock finally came, he opened the door to find her standing there, her smile lighting up the dimming evening. His expression softening into something she could only describe as relief. His eyes flicked down to the food in her hands, then back up to her face, his lips twitching as though he were fighting the urge to smile.
For a split second, neither of them spoke, just taking each other in. Then, at the same time, they both blurted out their names.
"Terrance Richmond." "YN."
The words collided, and they both paused before bursting into laughter.
"No, you go," she said, waving a hand for him to continue.
He shook his head with a small, amused smile. "No, you first. I insist."
She gave in, introducing herself again, this time with a little less fluster. “Sorry about the rush this morning. I was running late for work. I figured I’d make it up to you by bringing some dinner—just thought I’d save you the trouble of cooking or ordering in tonight.”
Terry raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but not ungrateful. “That’s... really kind of you. Thank you.” He stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in.
YN wasn’t sure what she’d expected—half-packed boxes or chaos, maybe—but his house was already well put together. Everything had its place, and the space looked cosy, even lived-in.
“You’ve been busy,” she remarked, glancing around.
Terry followed her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I couldn’t keep still. Needed to get everything done.”
The motion of his hand raised the hem of his shirt just enough to reveal a sliver of his abdomen, and her breath hitched involuntarily at the sight. He was... sculpted, to say the least. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the deep heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her.
Terry noticed—of course, he noticed. His lips quirked into a subtle smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You okay over there?” he teased, his voice dipping lower.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally fine,” she stammered, mentally cursing herself. Way to keep it together, YN.
“Kitchen’s this way,” he said, leading her further inside.
In the kitchen, she set the food down on the counter while Terry rummaged through a cabinet for plates and cutlery.
“Wine or whiskey?” he asked, holding up a tumbler in one hand and a wine glass in the other.
She tilted her head, eyeing him playfully. “You strike me as the rough-around-the-edges whiskey type. But I could be wrong.”
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “And you strike me as the sophisticated wine type. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”
She laughed softly, choosing the wine glass. “Maybe just a little bit of both,” she said, holding up her glass in a mock toast.
Dinner passed with ease, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them. She learned about his time in the Marines, his decision to move to the city, and his plans to settle into a new routine. In turn, he listened intently as she spoke about her work as a lawyer and the challenges that came with it.
“Why executive protection?” she asked, genuinely curious.
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to his glass. “It seemed like the right move. I needed something to focus on, something to ground me after...I guess I wanted to keep helping people… just without all the…” He gestured vaguely, his voice trailing off.
She nodded, understanding the weight of what he wasn’t saying. “That makes sense. You’re a protector. It suits you.”
Instead, she smiled softly, changing the subject to something lighter. “Well, I think the neighbourhood gossip will be all over you in no time. New guy, good-looking, and clearly handy with a moving box? You’re prime material.”
Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “And here I thought I’d be flying under the radar.”
“Not a chance,” she teased, raising her glass.
The evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation, the initial awkwardness fading into a comfortable rhythm. By the time the food was gone and the wine bottle nearly empty, she realised how late it had gotten.
“I should let you get some rest,” she said, standing and gathering her things.
Terry walked her to the door, his presence warm and steady beside her. “Thanks for coming over. And for dinner. You didn’t have to, but... it means a lot.”
She smiled, the sincerity in his voice catching her off guard. “It’s my turn to host next time,” she said, stepping out onto the porch.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.
As she walked back to her house, she felt his eyes on her, and when she reached her front door, she turned to find him still standing there, waiting. She gave him a small wave before stepping inside, and only then did he close his door.
Back in her kitchen, she leaned against the counter, her thoughts lingering on Terrance Richmond—the man who’d somehow managed to make an ordinary evening feel anything but.
It had been two months of playful banter, stolen moments, and a rhythm they’d fallen into so effortlessly it felt like second nature. Their evenings were a mix of wholesome exploration and daring escapades—her showing him the city from her unique perspective. Quiet cafés tucked into alleys, her favourite jazz bar that always felt alive no matter the hour, daring rooftop views that made her heart race as much as his lingering glances. Terry soaked it all in, learning her through the places she loved.
And then there were the nights. Nights when she’d invite him into her world, sharing wine and laughter, their knees brushing under the table, their gazes holding just a beat too long. Nights when he’d introduce her to the simplicities he cherished: an old movie, a game of cards, or just sitting on his porch with whiskey and comfortable silence. The friendship that brewed between them was comforting, but the undercurrent of something more was undeniable.
He didn’t mind bending the rules, like ignoring speed limits to race home just to catch her as she pulled into her driveway. There was something magnetic about the sight of her at the end of a long day. The way she’d stride out of her car, hair loosened from its bun, buttons of her blouse slightly undone, her lips still stained with that red lipstick that drove him wild. It was like she carried the day’s fire with her, igniting something in him without even trying. He’d lean against his porch, offering her a nightcap with that low, smooth voice of his, and she’d grin, the tension of her day easing away.
She had never been more grateful that Terry’s job required him to wear a suit. Seeing him waiting for her in all his tall, broad-shouldered glory, tie loosened, dark stormy eyes carrying a story from the day, was a sight she never grew tired of. Her eyes would linger, tracing the outline of his strong frame and sharp jawline. Even the way he held himself—calm, composed—was intoxicating. Their usual routine of “Hey, stranger. Fancy seeing you here,” never got old, but there was something different about today.
She parked her car with noticeably less energy, the weight of her day evident in the slight slump of her shoulders. Terry caught it immediately. He leaned against his porch, the usual playful smirk tugging at his lips, but it faded when she approached.
“Hey, stranger,” he said softly, his voice warm but cautious.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she replied, but her tone lacked its usual spark. Her eyes flickered to his, and though her lips curved into a faint smile, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, taking a step closer.
She exhaled, shaking her head lightly. “Rough day. I don’t think I’m up for anything tonight.”
He nodded, though disappointment briefly flickered across his features. “I get it. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Thanks, Terry,” she said, her voice soft as she turned toward her door.
He watched her retreat into her house, resisting the urge to follow. Respecting her space was the right thing to do, but it didn’t stop the lingering ache in his chest. Something felt off, and it wasn’t just her mood—it was the absence of her presence.
Back in his house, Terry tried to distract himself. He pushed through an intense workout in his home gym, the rhythm of his heart pounding in his ears as he lifted, punched, and ran his frustration away. But no amount of sweat could shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
Showered and changed into a snug grey T-shirt and sweatpants, he found himself pacing his living room. The hours stretched, and the silence grew unbearable. It was stupid—he felt like barely knew her but they had spent so much time together that being apart for the one night felt wrong, and the thought of her being upset made him restless. Finally, he grabbed a bottle of wine and decided to check on her. If nothing else, she deserved someone to talk to.
Terry knocked twice, the bottle balanced in his hand. The sound of footsteps reached him, and when the door swung open, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
She stood there, framed by the warm glow of her house, wrapped in a silk negligee the colour of deep mauve. The fabric flowed from her shoulders, clinging to her curves in a way that made his breath hitch. It accentuated the fullness of her breasts, the gentle dip of her waist, and the teasing slit that revealed her smooth, toned thigh. Her dark skin shimmered against the luxurious fabric, and her loose hair framed her face like a crown.
He stared, momentarily dumbfounded. “I, uh...” His usual composure failed him.
Her lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through the tiredness in her eyes. “Terry,” she said softly, “are you okay?”
He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “I just... I wanted to check on you. You seemed off earlier.”
Her expression softened, her fingers brushing against the doorframe. “I’m okay. Just needed some time to breathe.”
He held up the bottle. “I figured you might still need that nightcap. But if this is a bad time—”
She stepped aside, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not.”
He walked in, acutely aware of how close their bodies brushed as he passed her. The faint scent of her perfume—warm, sensual, with a hint of spice—wrapped around him, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
As she closed the door, she turned to face him, her head tilted slightly. “Thanks for checking on me. Most people wouldn’t bother.”
He set the bottle on the counter, turning to face her with a small shrug. “I’m not most people.”
Her smile widened, the tension of her day beginning to unravel. “No, you’re not.”
And there it was again—that spark, that unspoken pull between them. The air felt heavier, charged with something they both knew they couldn’t ignore much longer.
The room was cloaked in a heady tension that neither of them could escape. She leaned against the counter, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against the cool marble surface as she watched him pour the wine. His tall, commanding frame moved with an easy grace that was almost hypnotic, the tight grey T-shirt clinging to his broad chest and shoulders, highlighting every muscle. His stormy blue-grey eyes caught the light for a fleeting second as he glanced up, and they seemed to darken when they met hers.
"Rough day, huh?" His voice was deep, smooth, and rich, yet there was an edge to it, like he was holding something back.
"Yeah," she murmured, her gaze lingering on the way his big hands gripped the bottle. Those hands. She tried to focus on what he was saying, but her mind betrayed her, wandering to how they might feel against her skin, firm yet gentle, exploring every inch of her.
"You don’t talk about work much," he said, leaning casually against the opposite counter, though there was nothing casual about the way his eyes roamed her figure. His gaze lingered on the curve of her waist, the silk of her negligee clinging to her full breasts and cascading down to her thick thighs. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but his focus never wavered.
"Work’s work," she replied, her voice quieter than she intended. The usual playfulness in her tone was replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but she wasn’t sure if it was from his smouldering gaze or the thoughts racing through her mind.
"That’s fair," he said, his lips curling into a faint smirk, though his voice had dropped an octave. He took a sip of his wine, his sharp jaw flexing slightly as he tilted his head back. She could barely breathe.
The air between them felt thick, electric. Every glance, every subtle movement was charged with an intensity that neither of them could ignore. She wanted to say something, anything, but her eyes kept drifting to his lips, full and smooth, and how easily they curved into that devastatingly charming smile. She wondered what they’d feel like against hers, how they’d taste.
"You seem... distracted," he teased, his voice low and husky.
She huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Says the man who hasn’t stopped staring."
"You’re hard not to stare at," he admitted, his tone serious now.
Her heart skipped a beat, and her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand. "You’re not so bad yourself," she said, her voice steady despite the wild thrum in her chest.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was suffocating in the best way. The kind of silence that demanded action, that begged for release.
And then it happened.
He set his glass down with a soft clink and took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. "You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough, raw with restraint. "Seeing you every morning, looking so damn fine, so put together... And then at night, when you come to mine, when you let your guard down and laugh like the world hasn’t put you through hell that day... I’m here, losing my mind over you, woman."
Her breath hitched, her wide eyes searching his stormy gaze. His words were like gasoline to the fire already burning inside her. "Terry..." she started, but the words caught in her throat.
"No," he cut her off gently, his big hands cupping her face, his thumbs brushing along her jaw. "Let me say this. From the first day I saw you, I knew you were gonna ruin me. And you have. I can’t think straight when you’re around, and when you’re not..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to her lips.
She felt her chest tighten, her own thoughts spinning out of control. "I’ve liked you since day one," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.
His lips quirked into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. "Yeah?"
She nodded, her cheeks warm. "Yeah."
That was all he needed to hear.
His lips crashed against hers, and everything else melted away. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer until her soft curves were pressed firmly against his muscular frame. She moaned softly into the kiss, her hands exploring the expanse of his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath the fabric of his shirt.
"Terry," she gasped as his lips trailed to her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine.
"You’re perfect," he murmured against her skin, his hands roaming over her thick thighs, her generous hips, memorising every part of her. "So damn perfect."
Her fingers tangled in his short, dark hair as he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, his lips returning to hers with a fervour that left her breathless. The silk of her negligee rode up, baring more of her dark, supple skin to his touch.
"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he rasped, his stormy eyes locking with hers as his hand slid up her thigh.
"Show me," she whispered, her voice dripping with desire.
And he did. The tension that had been building for months finally erupted, their movements urgent yet unhurried, savouring every touch, every kiss, every moment. It was the turning page they’d both been waiting for, the start of something they both knew would change everything.
The moment between them burned hotter as they moved upstairs, their lips locked in a fiery kiss that only deepened with each step. Breathless moans filled the spaces where their mouths parted, the sound mingling with the faint creak of the stairs. Terry’s strong arms tightened around her, lifting her effortlessly. Her thighs instinctively clasped around his waist, holding on to him as if her life depended on it. Her fingers found their way under his t-shirt, her fingertips brushing against the hard ridges of his back muscles, revelling in the sheer strength he carried so easily.
His grip on her waist was firm, his large hands branding her as his own, sending a thrilling pulse through her body that promised to linger long after tonight. His touch roamed with purpose, tracing the swell of her thighs and the curve of her hips. When his palm landed on her ass with a sharp slap, followed by a teasing squeeze, she gasped into his mouth, her body arching into him. Terry let out a deep, gravelly chuckle, the sound dripping with satisfaction, as if her every reaction was fuel to the fire raging within him.
With his lips trailing down her jaw, then returning to claim her mouth, he blindly led them toward her bedroom. His back pressed against the door as he maneuvered it open, never breaking their heated connection. Once inside, Terry seated himself at the edge of her bed, pulling her closer onto his lap. She straddled him, her negligee riding higher, teasing them both. Her nails running over his short, dark hair, dragging them just enough to make him groan deeply, the sound vibrating between them. His large hands explored her curves freely now, roaming the softness of her body like a man starved.
As their lips crashed together again, Terry’s control snapped. With an effortless move, he flipped her onto her back, his strength leaving her breathless. The sudden shift made her gasp, her hair splaying out across the sheets as she looked up at him. His body hovered above hers, broad and muscular, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at her. The look on his face—raw, unfiltered desire—sent a thrill through her core. His eyes darkened with lust, his brows knit together in a mixture of longing and determination.
“Terry...” she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of the moment, her body humming with anticipation.
He lowered himself, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her collarbone before moving to her ear. His voice, deep and husky, made her shiver. “You don’t know what you do to me, YN,” he repeated. “Not being able to touch you like this.”
Her breath hitched, his confession sending waves of heat coursing through her body. Her hands gripped his biceps, feeling the tension coiled in him, the restraint he had fought for so long finally slipping. "Terry," she whispered again, her voice soft yet laced with her own need.
“You’re perfect, you know that?” he rasped, his gaze trailing over her. “Every damn curve... your thighs, your hips... these gorgeous lips I can’t stop thinking about. You’re driving me insane, YN.”
She grew needier, her dark skin glowing under the low light of the room. Her hands roamed across his back, her nails lightly grazing his skin as she pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word sent sparks flying between them, a tangible current neither could resist.
“Show what you’ve been wanting to do to me”, she breathlessly said.
That was all the permission Terry needed, he lowered his body down hers stopping at her thighs and slowly pusher lingerie up body signalling for her to raise arms so he could undress her. Eyes taking in every detail and she almost shied under his lustful gaze, but he quietened thoughts as he dipped his head down and his mouth parted to envelope the nipple that called for his attention. He bit, licked, sucked and swirled, teasing that bud and showing the other one the same love – “this is what you were hiding me, angel?” His voice, so many decibels lower she almost didn’t recognise it.
“Out of words already, baby? Don’t worry, I’ve got something that’ll bring that voice back”
YN watched as his hands travelled and worked down her body, lighting a trail of fire in their wake. They moved with such expertise, like he had time to study what made her wet – either that or she was just entirely ready for him. Her panties did nothing to disguise her puffy lips or the slickness that dampened the front, she would’ve been embarrassed if she wasn’t so turned on but this was a long time coming.
Terry's lips worked their way down her body, slow and purposeful, leaving a searing trail of anticipation in their wake. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he spread her legs wider, his firm grip sending shivers through her. His stormy eyes flicked up to meet hers, a silent yet urgent question. She responded by gripping the back of his head, guiding him exactly where she needed him most.
He hungrily obeyed, his tongue moving with an aggressive precision that mirrored her unspoken desire. Every stroke was deliberate, every flick of his tongue a testament to his singular focus on her pleasure. His large hands slid up her thighs, his grip firm and grounding as her body trembled beneath him.
Her nails grazed the smooth skin at the back of his head, her soft cries urging him on, and he fed on every sound she made like it was a reward. The way she arched into him, her breathless gasps and whispered curses, only drove him further. He was relentless, addicted to the way she tasted, the way her body writhed under his control.
“Terry…” she moaned, her voice breaking as he increased the pressure, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm. He felt her thighs quake against his shoulders, her body teetering on the edge.
“Come on, YN,” he murmured against her, the vibration of his voice sending her spiraling. “I want to feel it. Let go for me.”
With a cry that echoed through the room, she shattered, her release coursing through her like a wave. Terry didn’t stop, prolonging her pleasure, tasting every part of her as though he couldn’t get enough. And as he finally pulled back, his lips glistening, he looked up at her with a dark, satisfied smirk.
Terry’s gaze was locked on her, dark and burning with intensity. She was already bare before him, her body glowing in the low light, every curve and line drawing him in like a man possessed. He knelt on the bed, his knees framing hers, and his hand traced the side of her thigh, firm and deliberate.
“I don’t know how I kept control this whole time,” he muttered, his voice laced with restrained desire. Grabbing her wrist, he guided her hand to the thick length straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched as her fingers instinctively wrapped around him. His jaw clenched at the contact, a low groan slipping from his lips.
“I’m ready to put this where it belongs,” he growled, his voice rough, primal. He stood, his movements deliberate as he tugged off his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion. When he stood before her, completely bare, her mouth went dry, her pulse racing. His body was a perfect balance of strength and masculinity—toned, powerful, and overwhelming in every sense of the word.
She couldn’t stop the breathless moan of his name. “Terry…” she whimpered, her voice a mix of pleading and desperation.
She reached for him, her nails grazing over the hard ridges of his abs, earning a sharp hiss as he captured her wrist again. His other hand gripped her hip, pulling her toward him as he rolled his body against hers, letting her feel every inch of his arousal pressing into her. She gasped, the friction igniting something primal in her.
“Are you ready to take all of me?” his voice sending shivers down her spine.
Before she could respond, he flipped her onto her stomach with ease, his hands tugging her hips back toward him. A surprised gasp escaped her, quickly replaced by a low moan as his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, his teeth grazing her skin. One hand pressed into the small of her back, pinning her in place, while the other slid up her thigh, rough and demanding.
She lifted her head slightly, her eyes catching the mirror across the room. The sight of their bodies intertwining—the dominance in his stance, the way her body responded to his every touch—made her breath hitch. Her body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the heat and tension building between them.
But just as his fingers trailed higher, grazing her most sensitive spot, he stilled. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and his tone softened, though the intensity remained.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “I need to hear it, YN.”
Her body writhed beneath him, every nerve alight with need. “I want this… and you. I need it, T. Please,” she pleaded, her voice desperate, her core weeping and throbbing for him.
That was all he needed. In one smooth, deliberate motion, he thrust into her, filling her completely. She cried out, her fingers clutching the sheets as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. He didn’t give her a moment to recover, his movements relentless and precise, each thrust stealing the breath from her lungs.
“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “Taking me so perfectly. You were made for me, weren’t you?”
Her head lolled to the side, her cries and moans echoing in the room. She could barely form a coherent response, her mind clouded with nothing but him. Instead, she let her body speak for her, meeting his movements with equal fervour, the sound of their bodies colliding only heightening the intensity.
As her body tightened around him, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, he slowed. His hand slid around to cup her face, turning her head so he could kiss her. It wasn’t rough like before—it was slow, deep, and tender, a kiss that felt like a promise. Her body trembled, her moan muffled against his lips as her release overtook her, crashing over her in waves.
He followed soon after, a guttural groan escaping him as he buried himself deeper, his grip on her waist tightening. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of their laboured breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets.
Finally, he collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms. His lips pressed against her forehead, the tenderness in the gesture a stark contrast to the passion they’d just shared.
“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face.
She nodded, her cheek pressed against his chest as her breathing slowly steadied. “More than okay,” she murmured, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Good,” he said, his voice low but warm. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”
The promise lingered in the air, and she couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree as she nestled closer to him, feeling completely and utterly content.
comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
and take a shot for every time i mentioned 'stormy' or 'eyes' loooool
#aaron pierre#aaron pierre x black reader#aaron pierre x black!reader#aaron pierre x black!oc#rebel ridge#terry richmond#terry richmond x black reader#terry richmond x black! reader#terry richmond x black!oc#aaron pierre smut#aaron pierre fanfic#terry richmond smut#terry richmond fic#ruewrites
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Sins of The Flesh II
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]
Wordcount: 3,000+
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink, Oral (Female Receiving)
A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.
“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”
Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.
“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.
“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.
“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.
He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”
“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.
“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”
“You say that every week, babe.”
“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.
"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”
“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.
“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”
“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.
"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.
"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."
Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.
“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.
Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.
He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.
She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.
Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.
That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.
The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.
Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.
Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”
They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.
And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!
They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.
All that fine was for her eyes only.
Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”
“I told you I’m fine, baby.”
"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."
She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.
“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.
Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink.
"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.
He teased her with his words in between.
"You always taste so good."
"I missed this pussy while I was away."
"It's all I could think about."
"Such a sweet girl, baby."
Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.
"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.
"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.
He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.
“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane.
“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.
Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.
"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.
Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.
“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably.
The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.
The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.
“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.
I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.
Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.
"You ready for more, pretty girl?"
"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.
Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.
Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.
“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."
Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.
"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.
“Keep fucking me, just like that.”
"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”
“I missed this dick so fucking much.”
“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”
She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.
It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.
“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.
Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.
“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.
Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”
“I want to give you a baby. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”
Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”
Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.
“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.
"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.
“You want me to make you a mommy?”
“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.
“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”
“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”
“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”
She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.
“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.
“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.
“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”
“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.
“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.
Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.
"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.
She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”
“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.
The doorbell rang again.
“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.
He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.
Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.
Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”
Thoughts? Lol 😂
Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:
@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque
#terry richmond#terry richmond x black oc#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x black reader#terry richmond x black!reader#rebel ridge#rebel ridge fanfiction
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Big Mama Pt. 1
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC
Wordcount: 1,462
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, no smut (alluding to sexual situations), heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, etc.)
A/N: I literally haven't written in years. I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
PART 2 => 🦋
"You look like you bite," I said looking at him directly in his eyes. They were a greenish-hazel color that resembled fallen leaves. Nothing about this man's appearance was hard on the eyes. His face, his eyes, his lips, his body, and even his smile were driving me silently insane. His presence was intimidating yet inviting. An aura surrounded this man that demanded attention and took up space.
He stared back at me with a challenge brewing in his eyes. "I do, but only if you want me to. I promise," he said not even hiding his smirk. All I could do was stare at this smug bastard. I knew that he knew the effect he was having on me. If he couldn't see it on my face, the heat from my body was evidence enough. I was getting hotter by the second.
"Mhmm," I said while turning away. I honestly just wanted to see what he would do. I couldn't let this man see me fold this quickly. I wasn't retreating; it's just that I needed a moment to promptly gather myself. I was fucking losing it. We hadn't even spoken three sentences, and I was already struggling to think. I was normally a quick-witted smartass with a lot to say. Everything about this man was short-circuiting my brain, and I didn't like one bit of it.
"Where you going? C'mere, lil' mama," he teased. The way that man's voice had me in a chokehold. It was thick, heavy, and warm like raw honey. All I could do was smile. I paused and turned back to face him. "Why would I come to you when I'm the meal? If you want it, come get it," I said motioning for him to come here. Now, why the fuck did I do that?
"Meal? I'd prefer it if you were dessert. Daddy's got a sweet tooth," he said striding towards me. He was closing in on the space that I was using for comfort. I felt like I was melting in the spot I stood in. I had to think about my next move. I had to do something. I took a breath and relaxed as much as I could before speaking. The last thing I wanted to do was show this man that I was a nervous fucking wreck. "Well, I guess it's a good thing Mama's a baker," I said while winking up at him. At this point, there was no space between us. We were chest to chest, and I could feel every rise and fall between us.
There was no turning back now. The smile that this man wore from what I said had me blushing. I couldn't cover it up even if I tried. Clearly, I had lost this battle, but I would try my fucking hardest to win the war.
We were way past the point of this being friendly or casual banter. The sexual tension was heavy between us, and I had some shit to prove. He reached up and gently caressed my chin. Breaking me from my trance as he spoke, "Focus, mama. Where your head at, pretty girl?" His smile was now even more intense and sinister. It was as if he was feeding off of my nervousness. Was he getting off on watching me react like this? A devil, I tell you.
At this point, all I could say to myself was "fight back, bitch".
"Just thinking," I said looking up at him. I was struggling to keep my composure. I bit my lip to hide the anxious smile I was fighting. He said nothing as his eyes dropped to watch my movements. His eyes flowed from my lip to my body and back up to my eyes again.
Antsy and nervous, I began to rock on my heels shyly. My facade was beginning to break, and I was crumbling by the second. "Uh oh. Is all that big girl energy fading away?" he asked slowly using his thumb to stroke my cheek. "Big girl energy? I'm a grown woman." I snapped back. I instantly dropped my eyes in regret. "Oouu, there she goes," he said raising one of his eyebrows. This man was taking me for a joke, and my dumbass was letting him.
I raised my head to meet his eyes again. "You don't take shit I say seriously. Do you,... Um... Wait, I never got your name," I stated while watching him and waiting for a response. "Yes, you did. I told you what it was. You don't remember? Huh, pretty girl?" he questioned gathering my hand in his. He held my hand while I struggled to remember if this man ever said his name. I couldn't recall him ever saying a name at all. I, for sure, would have remembered replying with mine if he did. Was I that dumbstruck by this man? Did he have me forgetting portions of this conversation?
Then, it hit me. He said a name, but there was no way in hell that he wanted me to call him that. Right? Did he really want me to call him "DADDY"? I couldn't call a man that, especially a man that I just met. This had to be a joke. I was pulled from my thoughts by feeling his hand cupping my chin. He raised my face upwards to meet his gaze. Those striking eyes were piercing down into mine, and I could almost swear his eyes had darkened to bronze.
The growing intensity of his gaze and the faint grip he held on my chin indicated that he was awaiting an answer. "Something tells me you know exactly what my name is. You just don't want to say it. It's okay. I'll get it out of you one way or another, lil' mama," he said laughing. "And how are you going to do that?" I asked raising my hands to play with the lower hem of his plain t-shirt. "Don't worry. It doesn't matter if I got chu yellin' it, screamin' it, whisperin' it, crying' it. As long as I got chu sayin' it, I did my job," he said leaning in closer.
I could feel the warmth of every breath he took on my neck. The heat from that alone was like a smoke signal. I refused to fall prey to my own desperation, but my brain and pussy were now working against each other. I desired to feel every part of this man in EVERY capacity. I needed a closer connection, so I used the hem of his shirt to softly pull him in closer. I wouldn't dare fold that fucking easily. Not like this.
*FIGHT BACK!*
The wheels were now turning in my head, and my brain was in overdrive. I had to finish what I started. He was right about one thing. I WAS A "BIG GIRL". A woman whose thighs destroyed jeans on the regular and who could talk a lot of shit but wasn't going to take much of it. I had to get him while he was close enough to feel it.
"And what job might that be? Huh,....Daddy?" I asked while trailing my hand up his chest to rest on his shoulder. "Mmmm..." he said taking a deep breath. GOT HIM! He removed his hand that was resting on my chin and rubbed the back of his neck. "What? Did I say something wrong?" I asked sheepishly. I was proudly smirking at this point. "Nah. You said everything right," he said smiling back at me.
I decided to take it up a notch. What was the harm in having a little fun? We were only talking after all. I couldn't believe I was feeding into this, but fuck it. "So, does that make me a good girl?" I asked stroking my hand along the back of his neck awaiting an answer.
I could feel the shift in his energy. Desire overtook his eyes. His playfulness had turned primal. "Are you?" he asked tilting his head while watching me. "What's the fun in tellin' you when I could just show you?" I replied as I stilled my hand to rest on his neck. He caught my hand and brought it to rest at his lips. He placed small kisses on the back of my hand. His eyes never left mine. "I guess that settles it, lil' mama. You busy tonight? I think I might have something fun for us to do," he asked smugly.
I knew exactly what this man meant, and I was going to enjoy every minute of it. I just hope he can keep up because...
"Big Mama don't fold, and Big Mama don't quit. If you stay awhile, she'll show you some shit."
Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy
#terry richmond#terry richmond x reader#terry richmond x oc#terry richmond x black reader#terry richmond x black oc#terry richmond x black!reader#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x black female reader#x black fem reader#x plus size reader#terry richmond x plus size reader#rebel ridge#rebel ridge fanfiction#terry richmond fic#terry richmond fanfiction#thee reina writes#aaron pierre#aaron pierre fanfic#aaron pierre fic#fanfiction#fanfic
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I adore your comment. My goal is to always show black women aren't difficult to love. All they need is the right man to understand and redirect their moods. Thanks for reading. I'll definitely be writing more in the future.
Talk To Me Nice
Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black reader
No warnings for this one. Hopefully there aren't too many errors cuz it's only lightly edited. I'm trying to squeeze in my last post of the year lol
This little idea is the result of a writing prompt and @megamindsecretlair keeping me honest about writing something every day. Figured I'd share the results with whoever else wants to check it out.
“That’s a bit harsh my love…”
After spending the last 20 minutes filling your home with negative energy you expected reciprocation. Instead you were being derailed with a new form of gaslighting, the kind reserved for evolved men who appeared harmless on the surface but harbored a petty side few got to see. Though impressive, you knew Terry was only using kind words to paint himself the victim. It didn’t matter how many steps ahead you thought you were. The guilt still hit with the same bruising force.
Six months of newlywed bliss cruelly interrupted by disappointment you never wanted to feel so early into your marriage. Perhaps there was a better way to convey that hurt to your husband. Maybe sitting him down for a mature conversation would’ve spared you from the growing pressure around your temples and the rawness in your throat from all the yelling you’d been doing. You were convinced the window for apologies and grand romantic gestures had closed. He'd started it. You were damn sure going to finish it.
You pushed through your doubts and committed to your frustrations with arms folded tightly across your chest, the initial urge to roll your eyes shifting to a hard, resolute stare. “Well Terrence sometimes harsh is necessary.”
He scratched his beard and nodded as though you’d just agreed on what to have for dinner. Silence took over the room once again, intensifying the conflict between you. His eyes never broke contact.
“Are you done?” From anyone else the question would’ve triggered your inner toxic and possibly resulted in the police being called. But there was note of calmness in your husband’s voice that exonerated him from the accusation before it became your new truth. Terry wasn’t being dismissive. He was simply better at regulating his emotions. His inability to stop wringing his hands together revealed the stress hidden within. For a second time you were forced to ignore your guilt for the sake of winning. Mirroring his casual demeanor, you continued to stand firm and prepared for whatever he intended to say next.
“I must’ve imagined sitting in premarital counseling for all those weeks. Or maybe I was the only one taking it seriously. That must be it 'cause at the first sign of a problem you’ve broken every promise we made to each other.” His words landed direct hits on your conscience. Everything holding you together began to cave under the weight of his response. Terry wasn’t wrong. Instinctively, you went into defense mode anyway.
“That’s not fai—”
“Nah, you’re not about to interrupt me. I let you speak. You’ll show me the same respect. Understand?” The natural base in his voice instantly got your attention. Yes sir rang so clearly in your mind you weren’t entirely convinced you hadn’t said it out loud. You prayed Terry couldn’t somehow feel the lust pulsing alongside everything else flooding your system. One day soon under normal circumstances you were going to explore his newfound aggressive side. How, you weren’t entirely sure. With a new goal seared into your brain and soaked through panties clinging to your ass you managed to retain a sense of dignity as you obeyed your husband’s command.
“You’re my wife. One day you’ll be the mother of our children. I refuse to let them hear us talking crazy to each other, so I’m gonna need you to find a better way to communicate your feelings. If I need to sign us back up for therapy I will but this shit ends tonight.”
All the fight drained from your body. Shame took its place. In its presence you were finally able to recall those important conversations leading up to your wedding, the dreams you shared, the legacy you wanted to create. If not for your anger you could have revisited them sooner and found a better use for them. Now you were facing an evening apart, perhaps more depending on how long Terry held on to a grudge.
All you could do was stare at the ground and wait for it to be over with. Hopefully you’d find a way to sleep knowing you had failed your first test as a wife. When your lip started to quiver you promptly bit down on it to keep your hurt feelings in check. You hadn’t behaved in a way deserving of care but when Terry's long fingers reached out to palm the side of your face you sought out his warmth like a needy kitten.
“Now you’re breaking my heart.”
“I can’t help it. Did you have to be so mean?” Though you found your ability to speak you burrowed your pout lips further into his hand. The loudest person in the room didn’t deserve to cry. If you were lucky you'd disappear and rematerialize tomorrow with more sense.
“It got your attention. Besides, I thought harsh was necessary. Or does that only apply when you’re cursing me out?” He chuckled. You weren’t persuaded by the playfulness in his voice to look up. Terry initiated the gesture with fingers affectionately placed beneath your chin. It wasn’t lost on you that he'd repositioned your face at the same proud angle you held while lecturing him as if two nights apart somehow equated to years of neglect. You wanted to look away but soon discovered his eyes remained steadfast and beautiful in the aftermath of the storm you’d caused. They connected with your soul in an instant providing a gentle assurance that you were safe with him.
The words flowed through your upturned lips effortlessly. “I’m sorry baby. You didn’t deserve all those ugly things I said to you.” Before you could say more he captured your face in both hands, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“You’re already forgiven my love.” Terry’s lips grazed yours as he spoke. The distance was torture. Finally, after what felt like an unbearably long time, he covered your mouth with his, reestablishing his dominance with a tenderness that sets your heart and mind at ease. It was a proper reconciliation, but it also wasn’t enough. Not after the way you behaved tonight.
You treated the sincerity on his lips as your own personal buffet. When it became difficult to breathe you pulled away to regain control over the situation. “I still have a lot to make up for.”
A smile tugged at his lips as he pushed the curls back from your face. “We both do. Your approach needs some work, but you had a right to be upset with me.” You nodded and yet nothing in you wanted to celebrate the vindication. You were simply relieved to know you hadn’t caused any irrevocable damage by overreacting. Even more relieved to see him smiling again. "I think my beautiful and extremely childish wife should get the honor of going first.”
The frown you attempted to hold cracked under the pressure of his wide grin. You hate being teased. You were also guilty on all counts and willing to take your punishment. “I suppose that’s fair.”
“It’s very fair.” He mumbled between prolonged kisses down your neck.
You exhaled and curved your fingers over his broad shoulders. It was becoming harder to think or even breathe with him sucking everywhere his lips could reach. “Can we talk it out like grown-ups tomorrow?”
“Of course, baby. It's mandatory from now on.” When he spoke the guttural quality possessing his voice registered deep in the places he’s yet to touch. You felt painfully empty but knew you wouldn’t stay that way for long. At the rate his lips were moving you weren’t convinced you'd make it past the couch. You preferred the comfort of your king-sized bed the scene of your crime was a fitting place for getting down on your knees to make proper use of your mouth.
Terry surprised you when he broke the suction on your collarbone to reunite at eye level. There was a noticeable glint of mischief in his eyes before he bent down to throw you over his shoulder. You squealed and braced a hand at the center of his back for support you really didn't need.
"You better not drop me trying to be cute!"
"I was planning on letting you off easy tonight. Now I'm thinking your apology needs to be as loud as all that shit you've been talking."
"Yes daddy. Remind me what all these big strong muscles are really for. Also, please send help!"
With a single act you reclaim the home you’ve built, your gasps and combined laughter echoing along the walls as he carried you upstairs.
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late night writes… punishment (pt. 1)
18+ SMUT
pt. 2
Imagine… Terry orders you to keep quiet after constantly dealing with your smart mouth.
warning: bd/sm themes
arms and legs restrained. knees bent, calves pressed against your thighs, each leg wrapped separately in rope to prevent you from moving them. your lower set of lips parted from the spread of your legs. arms tied behind your back, wrists pressed together as the rope did its job. flat on your back… head somewhat hanging off the bed.
he left you like this for a while, alone. to think about why you lost a few privileges, one of them; the privilege to move freely.
so caught up in your temporary emotions, you’d move away from him whenever he’d reach for you as a way to express your anger without actually saying anything. your passive aggressive body language bringing his aggression to the forefront.
finally returning back to the room after what felt like decades but had only been an hour. he stood in the doorway, knocking on the door frame to gain your attention. you turned your head to him, the only part of your body that went unrestrained. leaning against the frame, he asked you if you could tell him why you were being punished.
with his permission to speak, you finally answer, remorseful of course. grateful that you could finally say something. that was the second privilege you lost: the privilege to speak freely.
you had been quite mouthy with him over the past few days, slick remarks and smart comments leaving your lips anytime he asked you a simple question.
“what do you think?” had been your favorite response when he questioned you about your sudden change in attitude, when you could’ve just used your words to simply tell him what you wanted… more attention.
so he decided to leave you alone all by yourself in silence; no music, no tv, nothing. you couldn’t even hear the sounds of him shuffling throughout your home.
facetiming himself from the iPad in the room, monitoring you from another area in the house. you weren’t allowed to do so much as whisper to yourself or it would add onto the time you spent tied up and alone.
walking over to the bed he bent down to take your clit into his mouth, making a smooching sound as he pulled away. the sudden encounter causing you to shudder from the feeling of his lips.
your mind had been filled with so many different scenarios, you made yourself wet just by predicting what he’d do to you. and he knew how your mind liked to wander, that’s why he left you like this.
he stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed. his eyes trailing over your body slowly as he made his way to the other side. finally reaching you, he stood over your head, staring down at you.
‘he looks like a God from this view.’ you thought.
placing his hands on the bed, both at your sides, he bent down to your stomach, the cold feeling of his chain against your belly sending chills up your body. he planted kisses against your skin, licking and sucking each spot he touched.
his attempt at trying to soften you up before ruining you the way that he planned to.
he kissed below your navel, between your thighs, right above your lips, exhaling harshly. the feeling of his breath brushing against your clit caused you to bite your lip, preventing yourself from making a sound.
he made his way to your nipples, hard and sensitive. pulling one into his mouth, rolling it in between his teeth, gradually tightening his bite. you turned your head to the side still fighting against your voice, it hurt so good.
he did the same to your other nipple, biting and then tracing your areolas with his tongue. you lifted your back off of the bed as much as you could to feel more of him on your body. your hole closing around nothing as he continued toying with your breasts.
‘just fuck me already’
you wouldn’t dare say it outloud though. because you’ve been deprived of touch for a few days and not allowed to speak since the start of today, you have a lot of pent up ‘energy’. but you knew better than to express it verbally at this moment.
he stood up and stared down at you as he reached between your legs, taking note of how wet you were. that mind of yours was something powerful, he had to admit. running his fingers up and down to collect all of your essence on his fingers, he went two fingers deep in your slit.
fingering you slowly, making sure to coat his fingers all the way up to his knuckles. he loved playing in your sex and you enjoyed it too but you knew eventually it would become too much to handle because this session was for learning purposes only.
‘it feels so fucking good tho’
you naturally let your eyes roll into your head when you hear “eyes”, signaling your eyes to lock onto his. his eyes a bit dark and low as he dug deep into you. the more you focused on his gaze the deeper felt his fingers go, pulling them all the way out then pushing them all the way back in.
shirtless. you could see the muscles in his chest flex as he pumped you at his own pace. “did you get your ounces like you’re supposed to?” referring to the amount of water you were supposed to drink on a regular basis, his orders.
“yes daddy” was all you were allowed to say. your walls tightened around his fingers and your eyes began to roll again until you felt a firm hand right under your jaw, pinky grazing your chin.
“eyes!”
your eyes followed suit and land on his again, his eyes never leaving yours. the longer you focused on his eyes, the more your inner focus went to the feeling between your legs.
your breathing was deep and slow, matching the rhythm of his fingers. relaxing deeper into the mattress with each exhale. your eyes were still on his but your mind was solely on the pleasure.
a small smile crept on his lips as he noticed the look on your face, you were pleading with him as best as you could without vocalizing it. he enjoyed having you weak like this, the woeful expression on your face was so satisfying to look at.
he sped up his pace, hitting your spot over and over again as he curled his fingers upward, not giving you enough time to react to each hit before feeling the next.
relaxing all of the muscles in your body, you could feel a rush threatening to release and you refused to fight it. you couldn’t fight it anyway, he knew your body too well.
he sped up a bit more, still holding onto your gaze, daring you to make a sound. your mouth hung open as your eyebrows lifted in ecstasy.
“oh-“ escaped your lips before you could catch yourself, your eyes widened as the flood released from your body. you pushed all of your breath out as the juices rushed to leave your center.
you watched his mouth form the words “don’t test me”, making you regret the sound you had made, it was an honest accident that you would still have to pay for.
finally removing his fingers from your entrance, wrinkled from the time spent inside of you, he dragged them up to your clit that stung from arousal. using the slickness that had gathered on his fingers, they glided across your clit back forth, left to right, the slippery surface making it easy for him to toy with it.
your body jerked against the restraints as he ran his hand back and forth, gently slapping your spot again and again. it wasn’t like you could do much moving anyway, the grip he had on your neck kept you in place for the most part.
“say something.” he dared, his fingers still manipulating your clit. you inhaled deeply as you felt another orgasm creeping up on you. the feeling of his heavy hand providing you both pleasure and pain at the same levels. it was a lot to take but also too good to let go of.
he stared down at you, one brow raised as he watched your lips, seeing it you’d test him further. you knew better tho.
your legs shook, torso jumping as you let yourself get played with. thankfully your climax was right on schedule. the splashing sounds were the only noise in the room as his rhythm went uninterrupted.
you bit down on your lip as you struggled to muffle your cries and keep your eyes open and on him. eyebrows curled in defeat as you looked up at him. he was staring into your soul.
your clit had grown so sensitive, too sensitive to be worked over like this but he didn’t care, that wasn’t his problem.
finally letting up a bit, he slowly caressed your swollen button, allowing you a small window of time to regain your composure. his free hand left your neck and caressed your forehead that was beginning to bead with sweat.
“good girl” he said, as he slid his hands back into your opening, curling his fingers upward once again, rolling his wrist a bit, his hands pushing back and forth faster than before. “i love playing in this shit”
he was torturing you solely for his own pleasures, barely allowing you time to come down from your last climax or the one before. back to back.
his hands slid down your head and locked onto your hair, pulling your head back even further. your chest rose again as he worked to pull yet another release from you, his eyes focused on your center this time, waiting to watch it do its magic again.
his eyes shined as he looked on in awe at how much of a mess you were making on his hands, taking all of the credit for your ruins. a large puddle formed beneath you on the king size comforter and it was your job to ensure it was cleaned properly after he was done with you.
he stood so close to you, you could feel his hard dick against your face through his pants. you wanted so badly to feel it inside of you but you were in the middle of a teaching.
getting what you wanted was at the bottom of tonight’s task list. you’d get there only if you earned it.
“shit here it comes” he announced, so in tune with your body and how it responded to certain rhythms and being touched in specific ways. feeling the pleasure built with each pump, your stomach was tightening as he pushed his fingers into you.
he kept the pace, lifting your head to make you watch yourself squirt all over his hand. your face was riddled with sorrows and pleasures.
“beautiful” he said to himself. you were unsure if he was referring to you, your pussy, or both.
he kept pumping and the juices kept flowing. your chin pressed into your chest as your vision blurred, a set of tears forming as he drained the rest of your fluids out of you in a different way.
he pulled out of you and gave a few slaps to your clit, causing you to jerk each time his hand landed on it. pulling your head back onto the bed, he ran his drenched fingers over your lips. smearing your juices all over you before grabbing your jaw.
bringing his face down just a few inches from yours he stated “watch your mouth when you talk to me, understand?”
“yes daddy.” you whimpered, staring into his eyes. “i’m sorry.” you spoke honestly, regretting the way you treated him up until today. his stern expression softened just a bit before returning to its usual state.
he kissed your lips and stood up to examine you from head to toe. he reached down and finally wiped the tears from your face as he let out a deep breath.
he wanted so badly to finish you completely, no breaks but your slow blinking and semi-limp body let him know that you may need some time to reset.
“make it up to me or do you need a break?” he stared down at you, thick eyebrows bent in genuine concern.
“a break p-please.” you managed, swallowing the lump in your throat after finally being able to speak words other than the only ones he’d allow.
he smirked to himself, loving the pitiful expression on your face as you looked up at him.
“okay.” he walked out of the room, shortly returning with water for you. removing the ropes from your legs, he pulled them straight across the bed stretching them slowly. he left your wrists tied as he sat you up straight.
tilting the straw forward, you took as many sips as desired before he pulled the glass back and placed it on the nightstand. he placed his hands in his pockets and stared down at your mascara stained face as you looked up at him.
“you can rest for a bit, you’ll need it.”
with that he walked out of the room leaving you there alone once again with your thoughts. you sat there, yet again trying to predict what would be a part of this punishment next.
you just hoped you’d be able to finally use your words…
part two tomorrow night 🩵
#aaron pierre#terry richmond fic#terry richmond#aaron pierre fanfiction#aaron pierre x black fem reader#rebel ridge#aaron pierre x black reader#aaron pierre fic#terry richmond x black female reader#terry richmond x black!oc
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Use Your Heart | 2
terry richmond x black, fem! oc { amara hawthrone }
summary: terry and amara have a serious, emotional conversation in this continuation. will they work it out, or will this end their relationship for good?
warnings: ANGST, sad! terry, past heartache, past relationship, fluff, romantic, explicit SMUT, oral (f&m), praise kink, size kink, creampie, foul language, unprotected sex, words: 5k
note: here's part 2; there might be some errors. I hope you enjoyed it. Should I write more for them?
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Amara's POV
I savored the final sip of my last glass of wine when I heard a firm knock at the front door. My mind raced with possibilities; perhaps Aisha was coming back to retrieve something she had carelessly left behind.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I padded across the room, the soft carpet muffling my footsteps. I squinted through the peephole, my heart quickening when I realized it was Terry standing on the other side, looking somewhat apprehensive.
With confusion bubbling within me, I swung the door open wide, my eyes widening in surprise as I took in his presence. I hadn’t expected to see him tonight, and the surprise left me momentarily speechless.
“Terry?” I breathed, my voice trembling slightly with confusion. “What are you doing here? Where are Sophie and Dotty?” I asked, glancing around as worry set in.
“Hey, Amara, they’re with my parents. They’re safe,” Terry replied, his heart racing. “Can I come in? I need to talk to you.” I hesitated for a moment but then stepped aside to let him in.
As Terry walked into the living room, he felt the familiar warmth of our once-shared home. I bit my lip as I closed the door while checking him out.
I shook my head, concentrating. “So, Terry, what do you need to talk about?” I asked, clearing my throat and crossing my arms defensively.
“Can we sit, please?” Terry replied, turned around, and I nodded. We sat on the couch, and there was intense, awkward silence. I waited for him to speak.
Terry turned his body as his heart began to pound into his chest as he looked at me softly with those eyes I loved so much.
“Amara, I have a lot to say, and the first thing I want to say is I'm sorry. I messed up, and you’ve been nothing but devoted to me for seven years, and I took that for granted. I'm sorry."
"I’ve been thinkin’ about everything. It wasn't right for me to not communicate with my past issues with getting married. That was wrong of me, Amara.”
“Terry, I—” I started, feeling a little emotional, trying to be tough.
“No, baby, please let me finish,” he interrupted gently, touching my hand. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for us. You’ve been there through everything, always holding it down.”
His voice trembled slightly as he said, “I was a fool, lettin’ you go. Life without you just ain't right, I need you; I love you, baby.” Tears gathered in my eyes as I took in his words.
“Terry...I love you too, but...can you just tell me the truth? What's been holding you back all these years?" I asked, wanting a really good explanation.
Terry hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting to the floor. “I ain’t never wanted to put this on you, but… there’s somethin’ from my past that keeps hauntin’ me,” Terry said, taking a deep breath.
“Before I met you, I was with this girl named Leia. We were young and dumb, in love.” Terry explained, looking at me for a second and my brow furrowed, curiosity.
“We were going to get married because she supposedly had my baby. I was ready to get married and step up to become a father. Leia and I had plans and even booked a wedding spot in Vegas."
His eyes hardened as he continued to tell the story.
"All my family and friends told me I should stay away from her. She was a bad influence, and she was playing with me. I didn't listen because I thought I was in love.”
Terry's voice wavered, and he paused to collect himself. I took hold of his hand for comfort, and he gave me an appreciative gaze and squeezed my hand.
“When I got to the altar, she didn’t show. Just…didn’t show up; she left a fucking letter,” Terry continued, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
“Imagine standin’ there, lookin’ like a damn fool while everyone’s whisperin’, told ya so. I felt like the ground had dropped out beneath me. After that, I didn't trust; I went on into a deep depression, went out drinking and partying, and soon I joined the Marines, which kind of helped me a little bit. I recovered but buried that deep inside my mind.”
The silence followed was thick with emotion, and I could see the pain behind Terry's eyes. “That’s…that’s awful, Terry. I'm so sorry that happened to you. This makes things a lot clearer for me now,” I said softly, my heart aching for him.
“And It sounds like that experience really impacted you. Did you think that’s part of why you were scared to propose to me?” I added, and he nodded.
“Yeah,” Terry admitted, his voice a low rumble.
“When we met you, we budded heads, but you opened me up and showed me true, genuine love that I never felt before. Sometimes, I wanted to propose."
Terry sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping slightly as the tension radiated from him as he continued.
"But I kept thinking, what if I put myself out there again, and the same thing happens? What if you—what if you don’t show up either? I can’t retake that kind of pain.”
I felt a wave of concern wash over me, so I glanced down momentarily before meeting his gaze again. I gently placed my hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palm.
Terry responded to my touch by closing his eyes as if savoring the moment. “Terry, you really thought I would do the same to you? Just leave you at the altar?”
I asked, feeling a wave of hurt rush through me. “Terry, I would never…”
“I know you wouldn’t, baby; I let my fears get to my head,” Terry quickly interjected, squeezing my hand on his cheek. “I've been holding on to this for too long, and it's not fair to you. I want to...I need to let it go, and I'm going to right now.”
"It seems like this incident created a lot of fear for you, Terry. Do you really think you can just let it go just like that?”
“Yes, by making this next step,” Terry said with a nod, his voice beginning to regain strength. “And I prove to ya, Amara.” He added, getting up from the couch.
Terry went to our once-shared bedroom. I heard him moving around stuff until he returned with something in his hand. Terry took a deep breath before looking at me and lowered himself to one knee.
My heart raced. “Amara,” he began, his voice trembling, “I’ve been holding this for a minute now.” He revealed a black engagement box, and tears welled as he spoke.
“When the twins were born, I swear I had it all planned. I was gonna propose to you a year after they came into our lives. But all this fear from my past just kept holdin’ me back.” He adds.
My breath hitched in my throat, and I felt a tingling anticipation. I had never seen Terry like this before. All the weight he’d been carrying was leaving from his eyes.
“Terry…” I whispered his name, unable to contain the emotion bubbling inside me.
“Amara, from the moment I met you, it felt like I saw light for the first time. You brought life back into my heart after so many years of darkness. I didn’t think I could ever love like this again, but you made me believe.”
His voice shook with sincerity.
“I know I messed up; I let my fears get in the way all these years and put distance between us. For so long, I was scared. I held on to the pain, thinkin’ it’d keep me safe, but it only trapped me. Trapped us.”
Tears streamed down his face, and I wiped my own, completely swept away by his.
"And...and, when I see you with our babies," he continued, "I can’t help but get lost in thought how beautiful our life is. You are a mother that makes every moment worthwhile. And for that, I need to step up and be the partner you deserve.”
Terry paused, his gaze intensely focused on me before opening his mouth to continue to speak his heart.
“I’m ready to let go of all that fear, Amara. I want to stand beside you, raise our little ones with love, and continue to build a future together. I want to make you my wife. I want us to be a family again in every possible way.”
Terry moved closer to me to take my small hand into his large, left hand, and my eyes never left him as his words warmth your whole being.
“I don’t want to waste another moment wondering what could have been. You’re my everything. I’ve learned through all this that love isn’t perfect, but it’s real and worth taking the risk for. Please give me another chance.”
I sat there, feeling every word he spoke envelop me like a warm embrace. His vulnerability was both beautiful and heartbreaking. My voice caught with emotion. “Ask me.”
Terry nodded, letting go of your hand and wiping away his tears. He opened the box with trembling hands, which contained a diamond princess-cut ring.
It was my dream ring, and it still is to this day.
“Terry, oh my god, you’ve been holding out. This...this...this.” I said, couldn’t get the words out; I was filled with happiness and disappointment.
It was somewhat bittersweet.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, Amara. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I promise to be more open with my issues; I will be here by your side, loving you fiercely and protecting and fighting for our family.” He said.
"Will you marry me, Amara? Will you be my wife?" Terry asked, and my heart swelled. My eyes lit up as joy washed over me. I couldn't believe that this was really happening after years of waiting.
"Yes! Yes, Terry, a million times yes!" I exclaimed, tears flowing freely now, spilling over with every word. He smiled through his tears, slipping the ring onto my finger before standing back up and pulling me into a tight embrace.
I pulled away, cupping his face with both hands and kissing his lips, then all over his face, causing him to laugh. We held each other tightly, crying in each other's arms.
"I love you so much, Terry," I whispered, hiding my face deep into his chest. "I love you so much, too, Amara. I'm sorry for keeping waiting," he said softly.
I slowly pulled away from Terry, meeting his gaze as I gently wiped away the tears that had streaked down his cheeks. "It's okay, really," I reassured him softly, my voice steady and warm.
"Everything is going to be fine. But just remember, being engaged doesn't magically erase all our problems. We need to face them together and work through everything, alright?"
Terry nodded, his expression earnest as he took a deep breath. "I know. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll work on opening up," he said, kissing my cheek tenderly.
I felt the sincerity of his words, and a gentle smile spread across my lips in response. A few moments later, we found ourselves nestled on the couch, wrapped in each other's warmth.
The comfort of his presence enveloped me, yet I couldn't shake off the sheer joy bubbling inside. Lost in thought, my gaze drifted to the beautiful diamond ring displayed on my finger.
The corners of my mouth turned upward into a smile, and Terry caught my eye. He mirrored my expression, his smile radiating the warmth and connection we shared in that peaceful moment.
“Hey, how about we celebrate this engagement?” Terry suggested with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Let’s hit up that little spot we used to love. Just you and me, make it a date night.” He added.
I smirked, leaning in closer, feeling the familiar thrill in the air. “You mean the spot where you couldn’t keep your hands off me?” I teased, giving him a playful nudge.
“Ha! You know I still can’t,” Terry shot back, his voice low and flirtatious. “You got me all twisted up, Amara. Ain’t nothing changing that baby.”
“Is that so?” I raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on my lips. “Guess I still got that effect on you, huh?” I asked continuing. Terry chuckled, shaking his head.
“Baby, you know it. You always did. Want me to remind you?” Terry asked before you could answer. He leaned in, his breath warm against my skin.
Terry pressed his lips lightly against mine as the kiss deepened, soft and electric, but I pulled away just before it got too heated, teasing him.
"Mmm let's do it! I’m gonna go get all dolled up and ready for you by 8 PM; you better be ready,” I said before biting my lip, getting up from the couch, and feeling his eyes on me.
“Don’t leave me hangin’ like that, Amara!” Terry called after me, his voice strained with desire. “You’re just gonna leave me all hot and bothered?”
I laughed, glancing back at him over my shoulder. “Maybe that’s the point,” I replied coyly, enjoying the flustered look on his face before walking out.
Terry picked up his phone once Amara was out of sight and was already brainstorming plans. “Yo, Tony, I need some favors,” Terry said, his tone confident and determined.
“Look, I want the spot ready for me and Amara tonight. Make it special. Little lights, maybe some flowers? Yeah, she’ll love that. Just trust me, alright?”
-
I applied the final touches to my makeup and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I couldn’t help but smile. The backless dress I chose fit my curves perfectly, highlighting all the features I loved.
I heard a knock at the front door as I was about to add more lip gloss. My heart was racing, knowing that it might be Terry. I hurried out of the bedroom to the front door.
My excitement bubbled over as I opened the door, and there he stood, looking sharper than ever. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and I could see his mouth drop slightly.
“Damn, Amara! You look absolutely stunning!” Terry said, his voice thick with appreciation. “Thank you, Terry! You clean up nice yourself,” I replied, teasing him.
I took in his fitted dark shirt, showed off his toned arms, and those jeans that showed off his toned legs.
“Thank you, baby. I'm just trying to match you. You out here lookin’ like sexy as hell,” Terry chuckled, stepping inside. “Did you miss me or somethin’?” He added and I smirked, crossing my arms playfully.
“Maybe a little. It’s only been, what, a couple of hours? But it felt like forever.” I answered, and he shook his head, laughing as he leaned and wrapped his arms around my waist.
Terry began kissing your neck and going grabbing your ass through the dress, causing you to moan, and you slightly pushed him to look up at him. 'Terry, we're gonna be late"
“I know....I miss you, and like I said before, you got that effect on me, girl. Can’t help it. Are you ready to celebrate our engagement, or what?” Terry said, looking down at me with those eyes.
“Hell yeah, baby," I started with a little giggle, twirling around to give him a little preview of my exposed back and my lovely ass, knowing that would drive him wild.
“Lord, a backless dress just—girl, you know how to make a brother feel weak. You must have been waiting to wear this because I had never seen it,” Terry said, eyes wide with admiration.
“Had to save it for a special occasion. Figured this one qualified,” I replied, leaning in closer. “But you better be ready to show me a good time tonight.”
“Oh, I got plans, and it's gonna be a surprise,” Terry said, winking at me. “Wow, really? You thought of something this fast, huh?” I grinned; I always loved his romantic side of him.
“Yeah, Only for you, my wifey. You deserve it all. Now come on, let’s go before I rip this dress off by just lookin’ at you,” Terry joked, reaching for my hand.
I laughed, grabbing my purse and slipping on my phone inside. “Alright, let’s go, hubby,” I said, pulling him closer; we stepped out into the night air.
-
Once we arrived at the spot, Terry got out of the car and walked over to my side, and excitement bubbled within me. Terry opened the door while glancing down at me with his trademark grin.
"You ready for this, Amara?" he asked, and I smiled. "Ready as I’ll ever be! What you got up your sleeve, handsome man?” I teased, getting out of the car and closing the door.
I bit my lip, trying to guess what he was planning. “Just trust me on this one, alright? Now, close your eyes,” Terry said with a playful glint in his eye.
I raised an eyebrow but complied, feeling the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. “Okay, okay, my eyes are shut. Now what?” I asked, trying to suppress my giggles.
“You’ll see. Just keep 'em closed, don’t peek!” Terry took my hand, leading me gently, and I could feel the warmth of his palm against mine, grounding me in this sweet moment.
We walked for what felt like a short eternity, and then I heard a door swing open. "Alright, babe, you can open your eyes now!" Terry said, his voice full of excitement.
I hesitated for just a second before I surrendered and opened my eyes. When I did, I was met with a sight that took my breath away. We stood inside the little spot we used to love, transformed into something magical.
The place was lit with twinkling fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and soft music plucking in the air. Beautiful floral arrangements were everywhere, vibrant colors that seemed to echo the happiness in my chest.
“Terry…oh my gosh!” I gasped, my eyes wide with disbelief. “You went all out!” I added and he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Only the best for my queen. I wanted tonight to be special, especially after all we discussed.” He said softly. I stepped further inside, taking in every little detail.
“This is incredible! You really thought of everything.” The table was set for two, with candles flickering and a lovely spread of some of my favorite dishes.
“I even managed to sneak in the shrimp tacos you love. Thought it might remind you of our first date,” Terry said, moving closer to wrap an arm around my waist.
“Aww, you got me all sentimental now! This is just… perfect, Terry. I really...I really appreciate this, I appreciate you” I replied, my heart swelling with gratitude.
Terry pulled me closer, his gaze serious for a moment. “Amara, I really want us to keep building this, ya know? I’m all in, and I hope you are too.”
I looked up at him, feeling all the love in those words, and nodded. “You know I am, Terry. Ain’t no turning back for us now.”
The waiter approached, breaking the moment for a second. “Evening! What can I get y’all to drink?”
“Two glasses of your finest red, please,” Terry replied confidently, then turned to me. “How you feelin’, baby girl?”
“Like I’m dreaming. Honestly, I can’t believe you pulled this off!” I laughed, still taking in the surprise.
Terry leaned in just enough so only I could hear. “Well, you deserve the world, Amara. I just want to see you shine and be happy.”
“Stop it, you making me blush! But for real, this really means a lot to me,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up.
Terry gave me that charming smile that could light up any room. “Just wait till you see the dessert. Got that surprise, too.”
“Don’t play with me, Terry! What else you got?” I asked, trying to pretend to be annoyed but failing miserably, a smile creeping across my lips.
“Just you wait,” he chuckled, leaning back. “But first, let’s enjoy this meal together, alright?”
The food was so amazing. Each bite was delicious, but the real treat was the laughter and love that filled the air between us. The night went on being the best.
Just when I thought the night couldn’t get any better, he leaned in, his voice low and teasing, “Ready for that surprise?”
“Okay, I’m ready!” I replied, excitement bubbling in my chest.
“Alright, close your eyes again!” he instructed playfully.
I complied once more, and after a moment, Terry’s fingers slipped under my chin, tilting my head gently. “You can open your eyes,” he said softly.
When I did, a beautiful slice of chocolate heart cake with Mr & Mrs. Richmond adorned with sparklers was placed before me.
“Happy engagement, Amara! I know we still gotta work on things, but I’m committed to making every moment with you unforgettable,” he said, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the air like a warm breeze.
I was taken aback, tears of joy filling my eyes. “Terry, this is too much! You’re amazing,” I exclaimed, my breath hitching.
Terry chuckled, wiping a tear from my cheek. “Ain’t no such thing as ‘too much’ when it comes to you, baby.”
As we dug into the cake amid laughter and kisses, playfully feeding each other as if it were our future wedding, I realized this was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure together.
-
As Terry and I stepped through the front door, the laughter from our date night still danced in the air around us. I leaned against the door, watching him kick off his shoes, the playful glint in his eyes making my heart flutter.
“Wow, tonight was amazing!” I said, pulling the curls away from my face before stepping closer to him. “You really outdid yourself with this, Terry.
“Well, I had to do it big, do it right and with style. Had to make it special for my girl,” Terry said, flashing his charming smile. “Like I said before, you deserved every bit of it."
"So now that we are back at the house, this dress? Man, I still can’t get over it.” Terry added, stepped closer, and the air between us sizzled.
I smirked, leaning in to graze my lips against his. "Maybe you should take it off," I said as our lips just a whisper away, I could feel the tension building between us.
Terry grinned, his playful energy infectious. “You know I might just take you up on that, Amara,” he teased, his voice low and teasing; I felt his strong arms wrap around my waist.
"Then do it, big daddy," I said softly as my arms wrapped around his shoulders, and I breathed in his scent, loving that his scruffed beard tickled my face.
Terry growled and pulled me into a passionate kiss, taking the initiative to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue into my mouth, causing me to moan into the kiss.
I pulled away as he picked me up and gave me a boyish grin before taking me to the bedroom. "I'mma give you my all tonight, baby," Terry says, laying me down gently on the bed.
We both began tearing each other clothes off while kissing and caressing one other's bodies. Terry began leaving kisses all over my body until he got to my lower abdomen.
I couldn't help but moan at how powerful he looked between my legs, his elbows at his sides, his back taught, like he was preparing to take down his prey.
Terry began to kiss and then suck at my clit hard, sending jolts of pleasure through my legs while looking up at me with his greyish-blue green eyes.
"Ahhh Terry…fuck!" I breathed, placing my hand behind his head; he moaned into my pussy; he always loved the sweet sounds I made when he ate me out.
His tongue swirling around my clit was driving me wild, but then he added a finger or two, and I was gone. "Mmm, pussy so sweet and wet. I miss this so much, baby."
What he did next sent me to the stars. "Ahhh...I'm cum-!!" I trailed off and cried in pleasure as I felt the most powerful orgasm rip through me, causing me to shake and my toes to curl.
"Mmmm, I told you Imma give you my all, got you cumming fast. Fuck, you taste so amazing," Terry says before lifting himself up to kiss me, causing me to go speechless.
I calm down a few minutes before flipping Terry over on his back. "Well, let me match that energy, big daddy," I said, running my finger gently onto his chest and then to his manhood.
"Mmm...this dick is so big, Daddy. It's all mine, right?" I asked, tracing my fingers around his tip, playing with the precum for a bit, and looking at him.
"Yes, my pretty girl...all yours!" Terry started, and I continued to tease the tip of his dick until he began to beg for more causing me to giggle slightly.
"Baby, please more; let me feel your pretty mouth." Terry let out a low moan and raised an arm to cover his eyes. His abs flexed and relaxed as he reacted to my hands working their magic.
I lowered my mouth to the head of his dick, sucking gently, and I swirled my tongue around the tip. "Just like that, baby. More, please more," Terry asked nicely.
I took himself entirely and began sucking up and down slowly, "Mmm, perfect…just like that." Terry moaned, gently cupping his balls, which almost made him lose his mind.
"Fuck, baby. Fuck...you are so beautiful, full mouth of this dick," Terry said, resting his large hand behind my head. I smiled with my eyes, looking up and continuing to suck him, flicking my tongue.
"Mmmm, I need that pussy" Terry growled, popping me out of his mouth and slapping his dick against my face causing me to giggle before pulling me up to his chest.
I sprang into action, gripping his length in my hand, and I slid down on his dick, causing me to moan. I placed my hand and began slowly riding him, and his big hands flanked my hips.
"Fuck, this dick...fills me up so good." I moaned in pleasure; Terry grasped at my breasts, looking at me with so much love and desire, like he admired my beauty in this dim light cast on my face.
"Fuck, you feel so good, baby. and you are so damn gorgeous. how I am so lucky," Terry moaned, and I brought myself down and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.
"Ahh, Terry, yes, yes, just like that," I moaned as he began to thrust in and out faster as I began placing gentle and soft kisses on his neck and chest.
"Shit, Amara. I love it when I can feel you squeeze your pussy around me." Terry moaned in my ear, wrapping his arms around your back and going faster with his thrusts.
"Fuck, Daddy fuck me, fuck this pussy. Ahhh..." I moaned, gripping the rail of the headboard of the bed, feeling it slightly shake off the rhythm.
"You like that, pretty girl? You like it when I pound my dick into your tight, wet pussy?" Terry asked with a low, deep tone in my ear that made me feel more aroused.
"Yes, so fucking good, Daddy," I purred, lifting myself up to place my hands on his chest to bounce up and down his dick as I threw my head back.
"I love giving you pleasure; I am so grateful for you and everything you do for me, Amara," Terry said, lifting himself up and pulling you into a kiss.
"Terry, fuck....shit!" You let out an appreciative and loving moan as he pulls away and brings his hands to my waist, flipping me on my back to lay on the bed.
Terry holding me in place and pulling out and driving his dick into me harder, making me moan loud at a sudden speed. "Take it, take that shit, lil mama, take my dick like I know you can."
"Shit, daddy. just like that, oh fuck I love what you’re doing to me right now!" I cried in pleasure, meeting his gaze while gripping his huge biceps tightly.
I felt myself clenching around his throbbing dick as I was getting close. "You gonna cum for me again, baby?" Terry asked, staring at me like a damn lion.
It was sexy and scary at the same time. "Like a good girl? Are you gonna cum all over this dick? Yeah?"
"Yes, YES, YES!" I shout repeatedly, and my second powerful orgasm hits me like a train. My muscles spasm, and my legs shake, but Terry isn't done with me yet.
I surely didn't want him to be; Terry turned me to lay on my side, spread my ass open a little bit. "Terry...oh fuck, making me feel so good, keep fucking me, Daddy," You moaned.
Terry let out a slight chuckle and slowly slid inside of me while giving me a light smack on my ass. I moaned, trying to calm myself down a little bit.
Terry began to thrusted faster, feeling his orgasm nearing. Being inside me was so heavenly to him. "Fuck, baby. I'mma...cum inside your little pretty pussy, would you like that?" Terry asked deeply.
"Mmm, yes, Terry," I moaned, gripping the sheets of the bed tight as he began pounding like before; it only takes a dozen or so thrusts for me to cum for the third time.
"Fuck, fuck fuck...Terry...shit...oh please cum inside me, fill me up," I begged, gripping his arm that was placed on my hip, seeing stars as I reached my climax. "I need it, please."
"Oh amara, baby. Imma gives it to you, oh fuck, here it comes, sweetheart," Terry moaned, going buried his face into my neck as he exploded his load inside of me.
"That's it, Terry. Give me all your cum" I moaned, feeling him shake and shudder, convulsing, as he rode out his orgasm. Terry fell on top of me completely.
I cupped the back of his head and kissed his cheek. Terry pulled back, looking deep into my eyes, and I smiled at him. Terry moved off me but still looked at me, and I followed his eyes.
Terry kisses my lips, and I cup his cheek, closing my eyes to enjoy the warmth of his lips. I pulled away and went to cuddle into his chest; he smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist.
Both of us stayed like that for a few mintues until Terry got up off the bed and went to the bathroom and I heard the bathtub water running and I felt a flutter in my chest.
“I'm running us a bubble bath,” Terry said, gesturing toward the bathroom. The warm scent of lavender filled the air, and I could hear the soft tunes of our favorite playlist strumming in the background.
“I love you, Terry” I laughed softly, and he walked over to pick me up bridal style. “I love you, too Amara. More than words can say” he said, looking deep into my eyes.
As Terry walked towards the bathroom with me in his arms, I leaned in for another kiss, our lips brushing gently. After a dreamy bath and plenty of laughter, the night ended beautifully with hope and love.
#terry richmond#terry richmond x oc#terry richmond x black oc#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x black female oc#terry richmond fanfiction#terry richmond fic#aaron pierre#terry richmond angst#terry richmond x black fem oc#terry richmond x black!reader#terry richmond x reader#terry richmond x black fem reader#terry richmond smut
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King Consort pt. 2
Summary: ‘Queen of the Damned’ esq, Terry’s disciplined restraint awakens a queen of the damned. Maha, daughter of Akasha, is awoken on a half moon night when the sun kisses the moon in the light of day. After surviving the bloodshed and corruption of Shelby Springs without shedding the blood he wanted, Terry finds himself under the gaze of a goddess whose thirst for balance in all things can suddenly only be quenched by his company. How did he get here? Does he ever really wanna leave?
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, the snowball is starting to go downhill and outta my control, smut, this man is haunting my dreams.
A/N: Sorry yawl, this was supposed to be a short thing but the story is taking me on a journey now. Part 3 otw.
A/N: Happy belated Diwali and Dia de Los Muertos to those who celebrate.
A/N: My work is NOT to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.
“Yes, me,” Maha replied.
“So I wasn’t dreaming?” Terry asked, confused as to how his fantasy was becoming a reality.
“Yes and no.”
“How is this possible?”
“I have been alive long enough to master a few privileges of immortality.”
“So, you are a vampire.”
“I am. Though not your average,” Maha said as she pushed away from the door and walked up to stand toe to toe with Terry. “You may ask me all the questions you wish later, I have been starved for entirely too long. Don’t you think?”
“I wouldn’t know, that’s a question I haven’t been able to ask.”
Terry folded his arms and raised one of those beautifully thick eyebrows at Maha’s boldness. If his dreams were as reliable as he thought and it was the beast in him she had been starved for, then that’s exactly what she’d get. He let her lift a hand to palm his face and trace his lips with her thumb.
Maha’s eyes hadn’t left the twin pillows that called to her from his face as she asked, “May I?”
Terry watched this ancient creature, a goddess in her own right, fight to restrain herself and it pleased him to know that not only had the powers that be sent him someone who could handle his beast; but apparently, he was a lot more powerful than he thought if he had called an otherworldly creature into his life.
His answer was a smirk as he lowered his hands to her hips and pulled her impossibly close all of a sudden. Terry watched Maha’s breath catch in her throat and the rise and fall of her chest quicken the longer he watched her. By the time he let their lips meet, her eyes had fluttered closed in surrender from the anticipation feeling his breath caress her own lips had built. Maha rested her hands against Terry’s chest as he palmed her lower back and backside, the two lost in the dance of their first kiss. What had started as a leisurely exploration morphed into a zealous endeavor that could not be fulfilled no matter how much they tried to meld together. When Terry had felt he had tasted her enough to sustain him through what he needed next, he pulled back, palming her face and watching those beautiful lips turn into a pout when he hadn’t come back in for another kiss.
By the time Maha had opened her eyes again, Terry’s beast shone boldly from behind his eyes. Her king had arrived and she was ready and willing to submit however he deemed fit. She might make him work for it a little, but she knew the moment his eyes had lit up her sleeping mind that he was the man who could make her submit with just a look. He was man enough to earn the title of king, her king. Daughter of the night, mother of the day, Ma’at reincarnated she had been called from birth. A description she hadn’t realized was so accurate until she had been turned and came out on the other side able to sustain herself without taking human blood, unlike her parents. She was the first vampire to gain the power to choose how much she wanted to indulge the beast within as if she were still human.
Staring into the eyes of this man, on the cusp of releasing his own beast, she had never been so grateful for the isolation her rebirth had expounded. No being on the planet had matched the balance she struck from the moment she was born nor reborn, but now, hope bloomed in her chest that creation had been taking its time to curate her perfect match. She’d gladly walk alone through the ages again if it meant she eventually got to end up in the arms of her beast, her man, her king, Terry Richmond. It was no surprise to her that their coupling would come on this night of light, Diwali, that would meet the day of the dead, numerically and cosmically a sign of a new age being born. Just as he was created especially for her, so it seemed was the time in which they would come together.
Terry had been gently caressing her face with the thumb of the hand that palmed her face and the hand that palmed her beautiful butt while watching whatever thoughts that flit through her synapses from the screen of her enrapturing face. He had no clue all that went through her mind while she looked at him, but she had gone through so many emotions in such quick succession that it made him want to spend eternity learning how she displayed every emotion so that when she did it in the future he could identify each one. Terry could pinpoint the wonder, the gratitude, and the lust, but there was something else there that poked at his beast like a hot sticker.
Terry kissed the center of her forehead, where she was starting to scrunch up her face from thinking so hard. “Why don’t we take this inside?”
Maha was pulled from the memories of her lonely long life and back to the gift that was wrapped in the present. “Yes, let's. You must be exhausted,” Maha said as she turned to walk into the house holding onto one of Terry’s hands and gently pulling him behind her, stopping just inside the front door to bend down and remove each of his sneakers as he let his backpack rest beside her. “I’ve prepared a hot bath for you to relax in.” Though she hadn’t beforehand, with that declaration and a blink of her eyes it was done, full of rose petals, lavender oil, and some bath salts to help ease any tension he may be holding.
Terry smiled down at this beautiful goddess, he couldn’t bring himself to call her a mere woman at this point, grateful that she didn’t just want to take from him. He wanted to test her just to make sure and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to get right to sating our hunger?”
Maha continued her leisurely stroll through the house with Terry in tow, up the stairs and down the hall into the bathroom as she responded, “The only way we’ll both end up satisfied is if we start right. I’ve had plenty of time to prepare for you, but you have been traveling nonstop since long before our paths intertwined.”
“I have.”
She stopped in the center of her extravagant bedroom in front of her king-sized four-poster bed that was draped in a sheer deep purple canopy, candles lining the edges of the room and illuminating their shadows. “You deserve to be fully recharged before we start and it can only help increase your stamina so that we can last as long as possible, yes my king?”
When she turned to strip him of his clothes, handling him with such gentleness he’d have thought he was imagining her touch had they not been looking at one another all he could do was breathe. Every moment just wound his desire to overindulge higher into overdrive, but she was right. It had been a long journey for him and not once had he relaxed. Despite mentally being ready to show her exactly how starved he was, his physical body did need something to soothe the aches and pains if he had any hope of accomplishing what he wished to tonight.
“Yes goddess,” he responded as she slowly removed his pants, bending to help him step out of each leg. The way she looked up at him from the floor, so close to his crotch, with his foot in hand just about made Terry say fuck it and throw her on the bed. Something about the way she seemed to gaze into his soul at that moment made him hold onto his restraint a little tighter though. She was silently begging him to let her serve him this way before he serviced her body and he couldn’t take that away, not when it only added fuel to the fire that would keep them warm throughout the rest of the night.
As Maha moved to remove his boxers in the same way she had his pants she noticed that the only indications of his internal struggle was the fire that steadily grew behind his eyes and the slight clench and release of his fists. She understood his dilemma the second his manhood finally popped out of the fabric she had been moving down his legs. It made her mouth dry and her pussy drenched instantly. It had been one thing to get a quick meal in the middle of the forest as he slept, but now that he was fully naked in all his glory she had nothing to compare to the feelings he evoked. He made her want to worship him, a concept she was unfamiliar with having never felt a desire to worship anything in her human life or afterlife.
She had to silently remind herself to stay on task to get herself to stand back to her feet and move them into the bathroom. When Terry had sunk all the way into her freestanding tub, she grabbed her hot black chamomille oil and her stool to sit behind him and massage anything she could get to. He hadn’t been expecting it, but completely welcomed her hands that had started kneading out the knots in his neck, shoulders, and upper back. As she worked out a particularly tough knot he gifted her ears with the most beautiful moan in return, causing her pussy to clench desperately at nothing in anticipation. She looked forward to all the ways she would be able to get him to repeat that sound again and as she continued, promised herself to find out just how many noises he could make in the throws of pleasure.
Terry touched one of her hands just as she was getting swept up in the endless possibilities and the feel of his skin and muscles beneath her hands. “Come get in lil mama. I need to feel you.”
“But my king,” she started but stopped when she heard a growl work its way up from his chest and vibrate right at the tip of her clit.
By the time her heartbeat was in her kitty cat, he had grasped her hand and gently pulled her to stand where he could look at her.
“You have been teasing my senses with this fabric,” Terry said as he played with the hem of her golden gown, “but now I want you completely unwrapped for me. Can you do that, my goddess? Can you let me see all of you with nothing in my way?”
Maha gulped and nodded, suddenly unable to form words from all the focus she was putting into not becoming a puddle on the floor though she was pretty sure she’d already formed one. His steady eye contact made her want to look away but she daredn’t for fear of fracturing whatever was starting to boil over.
“Go on ahead and slowly slide that off for me,” he rasped out, the growl from earlier still stuck in his throat.
“Yes, my king,” she said as she used her free hand to push the gown off her shoulder. Terry let go of her hand so she could repeat the action and let the fabric slide over her curves and to the floor.
He grasped her ass and pulled her closer to the edge, leaning out the tub so that he could stick his nose in the bush of hair at the apex of her thighs, hiding his prize. “Mm mm mm mamas. You smell,” Terry said before he took another deep inhale and continued, “decadent.” Using his other hand to open her legs and lift her leg onto the tub so he could use his pointer and thumb to open up her lower lips and ease his tongue through her folds from the front, he groaned at the tangy sweetness that graced his tastebuds. “And you taste absolutely divine.”
If he hadn’t been holding her gaze hostage and supporting her weight with the hand that was on her ass, Maha’s eyes would’ve fluttered closed and her legs would’ve given out at that moment.
“Keep those eyes on me. I wanna see every last reaction, you hear?”
“Yes, my king.”
Terry smirked, he ain’t even touched her for real yet and she was already in deep. Now all he had to do was prove that her trust in his abilities to deliver wasn’t in vain and he be damned if he failed tonight.
He leaned up from his sitting position so that he could bring her leg from the ledge onto his shoulder and dove in earnestly, holding her in place with one hand on an asscheek and the other pressed into the small of her back. Maha held onto his shoulders for dear life and fought to keep her eyes on him like she was told, but from that first lick she knew she finally met her match. It seemed that it was her that would have to work for it.
Terry took his time eating her out, savoring every last drop her gorgeous ass pussy released just for him. He had spotted how drenched her thighs were when he lifted her leg and it took everything in him not to try and lick it all up. While keeping her lips parted, he switched between lazily lapping at her entire pussy from hole to clit like a cat, rolling his tongue in a wave motion on her clit, spelling his name all over her pussy, and scooping out any nectar with the tip of tongue to swallow down. Each time he felt her body tighten up for release he switched what he was doing, torturously building her orgasm.
By the time she had palmed his head and started rolling her hips against his face, Maha had given up on her task. Her head had fallen back and her eyes were screwed tightly shut trying to lessen the intensity of the sensations she was feeling to no avail. This man couldn’t be all human with how he feasted on her, could he?
Terry had momentarily gotten lost in savoring her sweet pussy so he hadn’t noticed she stopped looking at him, but when he did he corrected it immediately.
“Eyes on me goddess,” he growled into her pussy.
When he didn’t get a response, Terry lifted the hand that was on her ass and let it fall heavily back down to pop her good as he repeated himself. The second Maha’s eyes reconnected with his and the sensation of the smack registered she was cumming on his face hard with a sound that was halfway between a moan and a groan and completely unrecognizable to herself. Terry just kept licking her up, slurping any juices that escaped and letting her ride out the high against his face. By the time she was coming back to Earth, he was leaving wet open-mouthed kisses against her clit.
“Please,” she whined out, unsure what she was begging for.
Terry smirked that familiar lift of his lips and stopped to ogle his handiwork. She truly looked like the name he’d given her, a goddess glowing with the sexual power she held. He gently removed her leg from his shoulder, grasped her hands in his as he sat back in the tub pulling her along, and said, “come get in mamas.”
#fictioninmybloodworks#fictioninmyblood#black fanfic writer#black!oc#terry richmond#Terry Richmond x black!oc#halloween fic#all hallows eve#day of the dead#diwali#queen of the damned
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