#then he just. gave up. and watched Terry

[bucketbender]

Remember the Shlorpian pledge we heard in S5 during the school episode ? And all the times when Korvo has mentioned his god/s

How many times did Terry use the "Sorry I messed up Korvo, I am merely a vessel for god to work his magic through" excuse, dramatically posing, while Korvo just stared at him in silence, fuming.

[barefoot-joker]

Snake in the Garden~Yandere! Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys! I hope you all are well! Today I bring you a Yandere! Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) story. I do apologize if he's OOC, I tried to make him a bit suave. I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2105

Warnings: Snakes, Kidnapping, Swearing

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

I hummed as I slipped on my straw hat and sandals. Today was gardening day and I was very excited to be outside. My garden was my passion. It was something to look forward to each day after work. It was especially nice in the eighty degree weather we were having, cool breezes making it bearable to be outside. 

Grabbing my metal bucket with my shears, trowel, and gloves, I made my way out the back door of my house. My neighbor Terry was sitting on his porch rocking in his chair, basking in the sunshine. When he saw me he waved. “Yello, Y/n! Enjoying the day?”

“Of course! How about you Mr. Johnson?”

“Oh you know, just taking a sunbath while the wife is out grocery shopping. If you catch my drift.”

“Perfectly.”

“Well have fun, little lady!”

“Will do, thank you!”

I gave a simple wave and headed towards my small garden. It wasn’t the most spectacular thing, only having five or six rows of vegetables, but I was so proud of my little paradise. I set my bucket down and walked down the row of beans, inspecting each one. My humming continued as I began picking and gently setting the vegetables in my pail. As I was working I heard something hissing. Confused, I looked around and didn’t see anything. I turned back to my work. It was silent for a moment until the hissing continued. I glanced around when suddenly my eyes caught sight of something white in the bushes. I stood up and walked over, pushing the foliage to the side. I gasped when I saw a white snake, its pale pink underbelly had a large gash. I slowly reached down and stroked its back. The snake turned its head, the red eyes staring me down. “Hey there, little fellow. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt ya.”

As I continued to stroke its back, the snake must have understood my message. “Let’s get you patched up, little guy.”

I gently grabbed a hold and made sure to cradle him close. Walking back inside, I set him in my kitchen sink and went to grab supplies. I made my way to the bathroom where I grabbed some gauze and disinfectant from a cupboard. I then returned back to the kitchen. I lifted my scaly friend to flip him over and started to rub some disinfectant on his gash. I grabbed some paper towel and dabbed it dry. “Almost done, little fellow.”

Ripping off some gauze, I carefully wrapped it around the wound. Tying it off, I sealed it with a kiss from the fingertips. “And, all done! Not my best work, but it’ll do.”

The snake’s tongue flicked out in appreciation. “You know what? I think I’ll name you Red. You know, after your very beautiful red eyes!”

The white snake hissed and slithered closer to the edge of the sink. I picked him up and cuddled him close as we walked back outside. When we made it to my garden I gently let him down before I went back to work. Red stayed the whole time I was outside, slithering alongside me. When it was my time to head inside, I said my goodbyes and watched him slither back into the bushes.

After my run in with Red I would see him every time I entered my garden. I would lay out some greenery for him to eat and some water to drink all the time. He would even wrap himself around my arms as I worked. One day as I was preparing my small table, Red came out of the bushes as per usual. He slithered up my leg and I couldn’t help but giggle. “Red, that tickles! Stop! I have to get this ready!”

He just stayed there. “You silly boy.”

I caressed the top of his head and set up my nice (favorite color) tablecloth. Just as I was placing two mugs down, I heard a male voice call my name. Red slid off my leg and curled down by the table leg. I turned to see my boyfriend s/o standing at my back door. “S/o!”

I ran at him and gave a big hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Me too. We’ve been planning this little lunch date for a while.”

I led him over to the table and we sat. “I made us some tea. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, honey. You know I’m down to try anything.”

We both took a sip from our cups. “So, how has your garden been going?”

“Pretty well actually. All of my vegetables have been thriving, which is nice. I even met a new friend!”

“A new friend? Well I’d love to meet them.”

“Hold on one second.”

I leaned under the table and gently picked up my snake buddy. “This is Red. Isn’t he gorgeous? I’ve never seen a snake with a pink underbelly before.”

“Me neither. Can I see him?”

“Of course!”

I started to hand him over when suddenly Red struck forward and sunk his fangs into S/o’s hand. “Ow! God dammit that hurt!”

“Red!”

I set him down and gently took my boyfriend’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“No, your fucking snake bit me!”

I sucked on my teeth. “It does look bad. Here, let’s take you to the clinic.”

We stood up and walked to my car. I had him sit in the passenger seat while I drove.

Hours later I had dropped off S/o at his apartment. We had gotten him some antibiotics and luckily Red wasn’t poisonous. Thank god. I sighed as I slipped off my shoes and walked into my living room. I was looking at the floor when suddenly I let out a gasp. Standing staring at some of the photos on my wall was a short man, his back towards me. From what I could see he wore a big white hat, white and red jacket, white puffy pants and tall black boots. At the sound of me entering, the man turned and I couldn’t help but let out another gasp. The stranger had white skin, short blonde hair and red circles on his cheeks. His red eyes were quite striking as they seemed to stare into my soul. “Ah Y/n, you’re back! Jolly good.”

“W-who are you?”

A black cane with an apple on top magically appeared and the man gave a theatrical bow. “How rude of me. My name is Lucifer dear, but you’re probably more familiar with calling me Red.”

“R-red? But you’re a person and he was a snake…wait a minute. Lucifer? As in the Devil?”

He let out a dark chuckle and I stepped back upon seeing the two rows of sharp teeth. “Exactly!”

I gulped and ran off, trying to head for my front door. I screamed when he appeared in front of me, but this time dressed in green. I bolted towards my back door but he reappeared, this time in red. A few more Lucifers in different colored clothes surrounded me, parting to let the original through. “Look Mr. Satan sir, I didn’t summon you, nobody sacrificed me, nothing like that! Why don’t you just return to Hell and forget this ever happened!”

His cane came up under my chin and lifted my head to look into his eyes. “And forget the lovely lady that helped me? Not a chance! I was lucky I stumbled upon you that day. You see, I had gotten into a fight with a contractor and he got quite a few hits in. I got away with a stomach wound and that’s when I slithered into your life. You patched me up and made me whole!”

His face got closer to mine as he told his tale, our noses almost touching. “You’re so intoxicating, dear. Just like the apple I offered to Eve.”

My breath hitched as his lips got close. “Okay, I helped you. Now why can’t you just go away?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why not? Please, leave me alone.”

A few tears collected in the corners of my eyes and he was quick to wipe them away. “I’ll explain in due time. But I’ve wasted enough time. We need to get going.”

“Going?”

“Yes! You’re coming to Hell with me!”

My eyes widened and I attempted to flee. His arm wrapped around my waist and with the other he waved his cane in the air. Golden dust began to accumulate on the floor, swooshing around and around until a portal formed. The arm around my waist forced me to walk with him. He threw his cane into the air and like magic it disappeared. “Now this may cause a slight headache but I’ll be sure to tend to it when we arrive.”

“No please-”

“In we go!”

He forced us to jump forward and I let out a shriek. I tightly closed my eyes and my stomach lifted into my throat as we fell. This feeling stayed until I landed on something soft. My body was tense as I slowly opened my eyes. It seemed we had landed in a foyer of sorts. The large marble fireplace had a roaring blaze going and from what I could see out the large Victorian windows it was night outside. The dark red clouds swirled like my nerves as I watched Lucifer fluff his jacket. He turned to me and smiled. “I apologize if I frightened you, my dear. It wasn’t my intention. I know first time portal jumping can be quite tedious.”

He adjusted his hat before sitting next to me on the deep red velvet chaise lounge. “Now then I know you skipped lunch since you took your little boy toy to the hospital, so how about some dinner? I can cook a mean steak!”

The situation was starting to be too much to handle and I couldn’t help the sobs that wracked my body. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Shh, shh. There, there.”

Lucifer wrapped his arms around me in a hug and I could feel his claws combing my hair. “It’s alright, little apple. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

He just made me cry harder. “I just want to go home!”

“This is your home now. I know it’ll take some getting used to, but I promise if you give Hell a chance you’ll forget all about silly Earth and that wretched boyfriend of yours.”

His claws dug in a bit when he brought up S/o. It made me shudder. “But he doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here for you and that’s most important.”

He pulled away slightly to wipe at my eyes, his touch gentle compared to before. “You know what will cheer you up? A nice cup of spiced hot cocoa! I’ll be right back.”

He stood and made his way towards the white door. Before leaving he gave me a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The door shut softly. As soon as he was gone I quickly looked around trying to find an exit. I spotted a door opposite me. I ran to it, threw it open, and rushed out of the room. My legs carried me far as I dashed through the spiraling halls, rushing down a grand staircase, and arriving at what I assumed was the front door. I yanked them open and before I could step out an angry hiss made me pause. Two large golden snakes sat on the doorstep and stared me down harshly. I slammed the door shut and urged myself to breathe slower. “I see you’ve met David and Goliath.”

My head shot up to see Lucifer standing there without his jacket, a faint smirk on his lips. “Why the heck do you have giant snakes on your property?!”

“To protect us. Being the rulers of Hell comes with a target on your back.”

“What do you mean rulers?”

“I brought you here for a reason, Y/n, silly goose!” 

He began walking towards me. “I intend to court you and make you my Queen. I’ve been alone for seven years. My wife and I split and my daughter and I don’t have the best relationship. However, I intend to rectify that, my sweet apple. You and I are going to be together forever.”

He stopped in front of me and held my face in his hands, thumbs gently rubbing my cheekbones. My heart sank as I realized I wasn’t getting out of this any time soon and the look of adoration in Lucifer’s eyes made that fact.

[megamindsecretlair]

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

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

I Swear I'll Never Leave

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

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

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

Word Count: 4,909k

AO3 Link

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know you miss me,” he said. 

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

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

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

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

“That’s not true,” you said. 

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

“Laundry day?” He asked.

“How the fu–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Terry…” You said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You said that last time,” he said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need is such a big word,” you said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Admit you need me,” he said. 

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

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

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

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

“Terry,” you begged. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s she really saying?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The end.

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

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

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

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

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

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

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

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocuss @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

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

@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[toothfa-1-ry]

DOYOUWANTTOGOTOTHEBALLWITHME? draco malfoy

In which,

Draco just can't seem to ask you to be his date for the Yule ball

GENRE: fluff

PAIRING: 4th yr Draco x 4th year reader

FEAT: lee do hyun as Terry Booth!!

WARNING: none :>

A/N: A continuation of my Draco Malfoy is a loser agenda!! Also did I mention that Draco is a very DRAMATIC loser??

"uhm hi y/n" Draco said nervously as he turned to look at Pansy and Blaise who gave him a reassuring nod and a thumbs up

"ooh hi Draco"

"uhm so..y/n" Draco nervously chuckled as he played his his hand cuffs "uh..y/n haha.."

"Draco-" Pansy hissed "you already said her name, there's no need to repeat it again"

"right- sorry. Uhm so y/n!"

"oh god he's a lost cause" Blaise muttered to Pansy who just shook her head.

"I can hear you, just in case you didn't know" Draco angrily muttered towards them, shooting them both a dirty look

"uhm are you talking to y/n or are you talking to us?" Blaise questioned, his eyebrows raised

"oh bloody hell" Draco sweared "uhm anyway y/n uh so like I'm pretty sure you heard the announcement today- during breakfast because like you have ears uh I have ears too! So I heard the announcement too- ha" Draco awkwardly continued.

"ofcourse she has ears dunderhead and ofcourse she heard it! Everyone heard the announcement" piped Lorenzo from a corner "just try to charm her won't you?"

Theodore shook his head in amusement as he watched his best mate Draco act like a complete fool. Actually he always acted like a fool except most of the time he didn't make it this obvious.

"right- right my bad my bad" Draco shook his head "so! Y/n!"

"yes Draco? What is the matter?"

"I thought you could do the er honour of er taking me to the Yule ball y'know" Draco smirked as he attempted to charm you like Lorenzo said

"I mean cause like I could go with anyone but I thought that I'd give you the first chance of going with me!" Draco quickly rambled and then flicked his hair "so what do you say?"

Theodore and Lorenzo tried holding in their laughter as Pansy groaned and Blaise muttered curses under his breath.

"oh bloody hell" Matteo mumbled

"mate that was horrible and I'm not even y/n! I'm just pretending to be her!" Matteo exclaimed as he took of the wig he was wearing

"if your gonna be this bad with me pretending to be y/n, how are you actually gonna face her!?" Matteo shook his head and turned to Pansy "he's totally lost!"

"it wasnt that bad was it?" Draco cringed at himself.

Oh he knew how bad it was

"it was HORRIBLE" all his friends shouted at him, especially Matteo who was honestly tired of wearing the wig and pretending to be you for the 9th time now.

"c'mon mate! This is the 9th time I'm pretending to be y/n. Just ask her out NORMALLY PLEASE" Matteo shouted

"oh shut up okay! I'm trying" Draco hissed his face turning pink

"well try harder" Theodore said from a corner "if you don't ask her out soon, someone else will"

"what?" Draco whisper shouted "you mean- there's a chance that she'll go to the Yule ball with someone else whose not me?"

Theodore rolled his eyes at his blonde friend, "incase you haven't noticed, many guys in Hogwarts likes her. And now you have double the competition with Durmstang and Beuxbaton"

Draco went pink in the face again "oh fuck"

"yup!" Lorenzo patted his cousin in the shoulder "so you better hurry up cuz!" He cheerily said as if Draco wasn't going through a mini panick attack

"ugh whatever!" Pansy groaned "you! Get your act together" she pointed at Draco "we're gonna practice this one more time! Matteo wear the wig"

Matteo grumbled as he begrudgingly wore the wig " on merlins beard why do I have to pretend to be y/n"

"okay! In 3-2-1" Pansy hollered, completely ignoring Matteo "action!"

"y/n hi! Uh I have to talk to you! Uh about uh something" Draco awkwardly grinned

"ooh yes Draco! What is it?" Matteo said in a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like you.

"uhm so-" Draco stammered

"yes Draco? Hehe" Matteo let out a giggle and twirled a strand of the wig

"uhm!..I have a collection of chocolate frog cards!" Draco squeaked, the word Yule ball being unable to form in his mouth

He heard all his friends groan and he became redder then a Weasley

"oh god not again..that's it. I'm going" Matteo threw the wig on the ground shaking his head "all the best" he patted Draco and walked away

"oh c'mon- wait one last time let me try one last time!" Draco whined as he watched all of his friends walk out of the dorm "oh wait- guys wait!"

-

"you can do this. I believe in you" Lorenzo gave his cousin a thumbs up

"well I don't" Matteo snorted which caused Draco to give him a dirty look "what? I'm being honest"

"she's right over there. Just go to her, say hi, maybe compliment her and then ask her out" the caramel haired boy ignored Matteo and gave his poor shaking cousin some tips

"what? What kind of compliments to I give her?" Draco whispered back in a sort of panick

"geez. Just tell her that she looks pretty today, and that you'd be honoured if she would go to the ball with you" Theodore cut in and shrugs "works like a charm"

"okay.. alright I got this" Draco mumbled

"yea you got it..now go" Pansy ushered the boy "c'mon now go ahead" she pointed towards the courtyard where you were.

Draco walked up towards you and a bunch of third years who were talking to you. Suddenly he felt very intimidated by those small scrawny third years and immediately turned away and walked back to his friends

"I can't do this! You lot are right, maybe I am hopeless" Draco sulked as his friends let out another sigh

"did he just call himself hopeless?" Matteo peered at the sulking boy "oh dear, y/n really did a number on him huh?"

"not helping Matteo" Pansy said sternly, hitting Matteo in the arm.

"listen, your Draco Malfoy and your going to go and ask y/n the girl who've been crushing on since forever to go to the ball with you" Blaise said giving Draco a light shake

"and if she says yes all is good and if she doesn't, well- it's kind of embarassing but it's gonna be alright" Pansy adds

"yea so go and ask her out now before she goes to the ball with Terry Booth over there huh?" Theodore nudges Draco towards your direction as the smiling ravenclaw keeper approaches you

"oh bloody hell- no way in my watch is y/n going to go out with that crow" Draco fumed under his breath as he immediately rushed towards you

"yea go get'em tiger!" Draco could hear Matteo whooping and the constant shouting from his friends, all hyping him up but that could hardly matter right now

Dracos hands were going all clamy and he could feel his heart racing. He wanted to run away from you but he wasn't going to let Terry Booth ask you out right infront of him!

"y/n" Terry approached you with a smile

"Terry" you greeted the Korean boy with a grin "anything's the matter?"

"oh yea uh I wanted to ask you if-" the keeper then abruptly stopped mid sentence as another person had joined their conversation

"y/n! Y/n!" A frantic Draco appeared, his eyes widened and his hair a mess

"Draco? Are you alright?" You ask the Slytherin boy who seemed to be in a bit of a mix

"mhm m'fine- I have to talk to you" Draco grabbed your hand which took you by surprise

You look at a awkward Terry and a frantic Draco, unsure of what to make up with this situation

"oi Booth can you bigger off for a second?" Draco coldly dismissed Terry who simply raise a eyebrow before shaking his head

"er- alright, I'll talk to you later y/n" Terry mumbled before walking away

"Draco! What was that. You can't just tell people to bugger off" you begin scolding Draco, unaware that his hands were still holding yours

"y/n I have to tell you something" the boy gulped, he could feel the way your hands felt against his and the close proximity the both of you were in. His heart racing even faster

"what is it?" You ask him, your brows creased up in slight worry. The blonde Slytherin boy who was always so put together, confident and full of himself was now nervous and quite frankly not behaving like his usual self

"Draco are you sick?" You immediately raise your free hand to his head and Draco swears that his temperature rises by a hundred degrees probably.

"uhm y/n" the boy begins, he could feel his sweat dripping and his mouth going dry

"oh dear Merlin Draco your turning redder than a tomato! Let's go to madam Pomfrey" you usher him, pulling him into the hallway "c'mon let's go-"

"wait y/n listen- I have to tell you something first"

You look at Draco in confusion. What did he have to tell you so much that he was acting quite frankly out of his personality

"er- okay..can you tell me when we're in the infirmary?"

"no! I have to tell you now" Draco pressed on. He had to ask you right now when he was full of adrenaline or else he won't be able to ask you later

"oh okay, okay" you say a little taken back "what is it?"

Draco bites his lower lip and mumbles something

"what Draco? I didn't quite catch you"

"uhm...I think uh- I think you look very nice today!" Draco suddenly exclaimed

"o-oh!" That might have taken you back by surprise even more, a slight blush forms in your face "thanks..uhm"

"actually I think you look nice everyday" Draco continues his eyes looking down, his grip on your hand tightening.

You look down and realise that the both of you were holding hands and you feel your face getting hot

"that's really sweet of you to say Dray" you said before you could stop yourself

Draco looks up at you, his eyes widened at the sudden nickname you called him

"Dray?"

You eyes widen and you the undying urge to slap yourself across the face as you see the way Draco's eyes twinkle with mischief.

"did you just give me a nickname? Dray?" Draco grins smugly, completely forgetting the real reason why he was with you

"oh shut up" you huff "I'm never gonna say that again"

"oh no please do say it again" Draco teased you, watching your face get red

"r-right, what did you have to tell me Draco? Do say it fast I don't have all day" you quickly try to change the subject causing Draco to remember the real reason why he was talking to you

"er-" Draco immediately felt all his confidence and smugness fading away

"oh dear Draco your getting red all again" you worriedly said, peering into his face "are you sure you don't need to-"

"not Draco" Draco mumbled

"what?"

"not Draco, don't call me Draco" Draco mumbled a bit louder

"well, what do you want me to call you then-"

"Dray, you should call me Dray" he says softly

Your eyes widen "Dray... I don't understand what-"

"doyouwanttogototheballwithme?" Draco squeaked

"what?"

Draco cleared his throat and looked around, he beckoned you to come closer to him and leaned towards you

"do you want to maybe perhaps go to the ball with..me?" He whispered into your ears filling your stomach with butterflies

"oh- Draco I-" you stammer, unable to form sentences "uhm I would really actually like that" you whisper back in surprise

"really?" Draco asked you back, his voice in equal surprise

You give a shy nodd

"really?!" Draco asked again looking at you eyes widened "I'm not going to stop saying really unless you give me a proper answer l/n"

Your roll your eyes "yes really...Dray I would love to go to the ball with you"

"oh my god I think I'm gonna pass out" Draco said feeling faint

"I think that's a little but of a exaggeration- oh my god Draco!" You shout out, trying to catch the boy before he fell on the ground

"oh dear- he actually passed out" you grimace slightly as you make him lie down in one of the stools in the courtyard after dragging him all the way from the hallway

You softly brush his blonde hair away from his pink face

"how quite adorable" you laugh to yourself

-

"Hey Berkshire!" Terry greeted Lorenzo who along with all his friends were trying to see what Draco and y/n were doing just as they got dragged to the hallway

"ugh we cant see them anymore!" Pansy whined as she stretched her neck, only to get a glimpse of blonde hair

"uhm s'everything alright?" Terry asked

"yea everythings fine" Lorenzo smiled at the tall boy "what's up?"

"oh uh- I did what you told me too" Terry grinned as all of Lorenzo's friends looked at him with a confused face

Lorenzo laughed "great chap you are my friend" giving him a pat in the back

"I'm guessing you told me to pretend like I'm asking y/n to the ball just so that Malfoy would make a move first?" Terry winced as he asked Lorenzo who just seemed to grin even brighter

"my god- you do catch on quick don't you?"

Terry let out a laugh and blushed at the sudden compliment. He was never really good with compliments

"you did what?" Matteo asked eyes widened

"sneaky snake" Pansy squinted her eyes at him and grinned 'your a genius!"

Lorenzo simply shrugged

"so whatdya think? He asked her out yet?" Terry peered out from where Pansy was standing

"maybe if Draco finally got the guts" Pansy snorted

"oh I think he did" Blaise said hesitantly

"what?" Pansy and Matteo asked eagerly

"it appears that our little prince has..." Theodore paused not sure whether he was supposed to laugh or be embarrassed

"he has what?" Pansy questioned

"oh hell!" Matteo shouted with laughter "the bloody wanker has fainted!" Matteo exclaimed with glee all across his face

Pansy covered her face with embarrassment as the boys roared with laughter. Only Terry wasn't the one laughing along.

"oh dear" Terry shook his head sadly "now how would the poor boy be when he dances with her?"

[sageispunk]

red lipstick (18+)

↳ "Don't let your husband stop you from finding the love of your life"

pairing: Maintenance Man! Terry Richmond x blackOC! Alisha Bryce

wordcount: 2.2k

warnings: infidelity, oral sex (m receiving), use of handcuffs, switch! Terry & OC, Daddy kink, lipstick kink, messy bjs, pouty desperate!Terry bc I wanted to

A/N: this is like basically a random part for this AU I've been fixated on for a minute, still not sure if I want to do chronological series or just a bunch of loosely connected oneshots but I'll figure that out l8rrrrr!!! lmk in the comments if you enjoyed this, also pls like + reblog, feel free to follow my notif blog @sageispunklibrary for updates!!!

“C’mon baby, you can do better than that.” 

Alisha kept her gaze on the man, down on her knees in the fancy, red, low-cut dinner dress he’d bought for tonight. The lights were low and her mouth was full, throat nearly stuffed with her lover’s manhood. He sat on her sofa, leaned back with his bare thighs spread apart on the orange velvet, one arm thrown across the back as if he owned the place. 

Terry was big–thick and long, unforgiving. She held her hands together down in front of her, wrists bound together by the fuzzy black cuffs he found while peeking through her nightstand drawer earlier in the day, as new as the day she bought them. 

She hummed as she took most of him down her throat, leaving only about an inch of his warm brown skin exposed to the chilled air. She could tell that wasn’t enough for Terry, not right now at least. He was desperate, aching for a release and she would be just that. 

She felt his hand on the back of her head loosely tangle itself in her long brown locs, fingertips lightly massaging into her scalp. With a sigh from her nose, she closed her eyes and relaxed herself, allowing him to stroke his hips up into her throat, bringing her precious cherry-tinted lips just a little closer to his base each time. Saliva dribbled out from the corners of her mouth, dripping down off her chin and onto his heavy balls. She could feel her thighs sticking together, the heat between them building with each passing second. 

“You can do it, mama…take Daddy’s dick down that throat…”

His sweet, daunting voice echoed in her mind, keeping her grounded in the moment. She loved it when he talked to her like this, so rough and dominating–manly. Not to mention using the handcuffs that had been sitting in her drawer for months, brand new and awaiting the perfect opportunity. Now, her dreams were being fulfilled. It was everything she was missing with Isaiah, and that fact only made her more eager to please him, pushing herself to her limits every time they fucked, and then some. 

“Look at me, Lisha.” 

Terry watched as she obeyed his command, breathless as he took in the scene before him. This perfect, nasty, brown-eyed beauty kneeling for him, worshiping his dick like it was all she’d ever needed. All that consumed her mind, day and night. He knew that it was, the same feelings growing within her and dictating her every move, he felt in himself. They were on the same level again, and he’d be damned if another motherfucker got in between them after this. 

He couldn’t help the moans that evaded him as she finally throated his entire length, not breaking eye contact as she nuzzled her nose into his trimmed pubes. For over twelve years, the man’s life had been structured around maintaining self-control and mental strength, but there was nothing or no one on this planet that made him feel as weak as Alisha did in this very moment. 

His bottom lip found itself clenched tightly between his pearly whites, a crease growing between his eyebrows while he took everything she gave him. She pulled up off his dick, slowly sliding back up with red lips, glossy with spit and precum.

“I missed you.” 

Alisha didn’t plan to say those words, but her nerves were soothed when he reciprocated the statement, his gruff voice hitting her ears and vibrating through her chest. She loved the strain in his voice, in his eyes, knowing that she had his tough exterior breaking down made her feel…powerful. On top of the world. 

Terry’s other hand came to her cheek, caressing her gently as he stared into her eyes, slightly pouting at the sight of his rock hard dick standing up right next to her face. 

He subconsciously made it jump, stealing her attention away. She watched it twitch in front of her, a hungry look growing in her dark eyes as her mouth watered. She needed to feel him stretch her again, her lips, her jaw, her throat. She just needed him inside again. 

Alisha leaned forward and her pink tongue darted out, licking a slow trail up the vein on the underside of his dick. She circled the tip of her tongue around the throbbing head, specifically avoiding his needy, leaking hole. Terry groaned from above, losing his restraint the more she avoided his most sensitive spot. His head was filled with nothing but echoes of pleas, anguished cries for her to relieve him. All he needed was her tongue. 

She smiled, watching his thighs flex and feeling the grip of his fingers tighten in her roots. She pressed her lips against the tip,  firm enough to leave a smudge of red lipstick against the brown flesh. A mark of her love. Craning her neck down, she aimed for a new spot: his balls, heavy and full of cum that he’d reserved for her and her only. Over three weeks apart and he found that nothing matched his freak quite like she did…not even his own hand would suffice.

Terry bucked his hips up when he felt her soft, sticky lips on his sack, leaving yet another beautiful stain. “Lishaaa, fuck!” 

He was supposed to be the one in charge at this moment, yet he felt like he had the least power, even with Alisha in handcuffs. He threw his head back, a loud groan escaping his lips as he found himself writhing, unable to take the teasing. This girl had his goddamn toes curling just from kissing on his balls. 

“Look at me, Terry.” 

Her sweet voice met his ears, gentle and delicate, with a hint of deception laced into her words. He returned his gaze to the woman, seeking some sort of solace in her deep brown orbs. As big and tough as he was, he was not prepared at all for how Alisha wanted to play with him tonight. For the last couple weeks, all he’d fantasized about was breaking her down all across her place…leaving his mark on her, in her, all around her. 

But here she was, beating him right to it. 

Alisha sat up on her knees a bit, not bothering to fix the cleavage spilling from her dress before leaning forward to plant her lips on the skin near his hip. They both stared at her nearly perfect lip print, eyes low and full of want. “Baby–”

“Take these cuffs off me, Terry. Let me take care of you like you take care of me, please.” 

Terry paused, searching her eyes for any hints of mischief but he came up short. Sitting forward on the sofa, he brought his hands down in between them, pulling hers up into his lap. He clasped both her wrists with his left hand, using his right to take his chain off, a shiny silver key dangling in front of her greedy eyes like the world’s last golden ticket. 

It was as if time slowed down, the air seemed thick and heavy, a cloud of desire extinguishing any sense of hesitation in the pair. They both watched as the key slid inside, twisting and releasing the lock with a soft click. The cuffs fell to the floor but Alisha’s hands remained, suspended in his hold. Terry’s eyes came back up to meet hers, intense and unrelenting as he pulled her closer. 

He swallowed down her gasp when their lips met, his eyes fluttering shut as he relished in both the softness and the slight taste of himself. Terry’s tongue wriggled into her mouth, passionately dancing with hers in a battle for dominance. They moaned into one another, lips melding together seamlessly, a reminder of how perfect they are together. 

Alisha pulled her hands from his grasp, slowly so as not to be noticed. Her slender fingers found his length, stiff and weeping for her. A thumb lightly tapped the stickiness on the head, and she grinned into the kiss at his sudden twitching. She rubbed light circles on it, attentive to the way his mouth began to fall open as she pulled back from the kiss, not bothering to slow her movements on his delicate tip. Her left hand fell back to his balls, holding them and only slightly squeezing the warm sack in her palm, just as she’d wanted to earlier.

“Does that feel good?”

His nod was barely noticeable, but she caught it. Just as well as she caught the quiver in his bottom lip when she squeezed just a bit tighter. 

She kneeled down between his thighs again, bringing her face back closer to what she’d needed most. Not wanting to waste anymore time keeping him on the edge, she dived in, removing her thumb and replacing it with her hot tongue. She reached her right hand up to one of his small brown nipples, rubbing his own stickiness from her thumb into the hardened bud. Terry’s body jerked up, attempting to crumble in on itself while her hungry tongue swirled around his tip. “Ohh shiiiiitttt, Lish, please, fuck!”

Her head dropped into his lap, her other hand coming up to rest on his thigh while his dick slid into her throat with much more ease than before. She bobbed up and down, savoring his taste on her tongue and his cries in her ears. She felt so in control, taking him down to the hilt each time, moaning and drooling around his thickness like a slut. 

“Baby, that shit feels–mmmm–so motherfuckin’ good, I swear to god…” Terry groaned out, his brain growing fuzzier while she went down on him like she’d been starving for his dick. She gagged and slurped and hummed around him, all the while looking up at him with those perfect, teary eyes– like a wet dream come to life. His big hands gripped the edges of the sofa while he tried to hold on to the little bit of self-control he had left.

Alisha came up once more, letting him fall out of her mouth before she refocused her attention on his balls. Both hands wrapped around his dick, steadily jerking him as she sucked and licked on his sack, not caring to wipe away the spit across her cheeks and chin. She was being messy and nasty and she didn’t give a fuck about embarrassing herself because she knew that Terry was loving this side of her as much as she did. 

He palmed his face, cursing under his breath as he felt himself at the edge once again. His legs trembled as he tried to hold on, to savor the feeling of her hands and her mouth on him again after so long. There was nothing he needed more but to be surrounded in her warmth, physically and emotionally. He longed to be this close to her, this vulnerable with her, always. 

She released his balls with a gentle pop!, continuing to jerk him off with both hands from the base to the tip. “Cum for me, daddy…” She stared i​nto his eyes, finding herself lost in them, in him. “I need to taste you, please.”

Terry relaxed as her soft whispers hit his ears, the combination of her dirty words and the yearning that was revealed in her eyes helping him over that peak. “Lisha, I’m–” 

She quickly put her mouth on the head as he tensed up underneath her, both his cries and her moans filling the room. The taste of his nut on her tongue had her nearly cumming herself, her thighs subconsciously grinding together as she listened to his whining above. 

“Oh my god, ohmyfucking–fuckkkk…” Terry’s usual rough, baritone voice was higher now, sweet and shaky as he panted out and emptied himself in her. His vision was teary but he tried to stay focused on Alisha between his thighs. She took everything that he gave her, slowing her hands down on his dick while swallowing down nearly every drop of his seed. The filthiest image of tonight seared itself into his mind when she smiled up at him, licking the spare cum off her fingers with more smeared on her plump pink lips. 

She giggled softly, watching the big man come back down to Earth, his dick softening back to its usual form. His gaze was soft now, the love he felt for her shining right through his long eyelashes. As the intensity of the moment calmed down, she became more aware of her sore knees on the carpet, but especially her bare, aching pussy underneath her dress. Terry noticed her shifting and immediately straightened up, leaning forward to pull her up into his lap. “C’mere, love..” She sat on his left thigh with her legs stretched out across his right, burying her face into his neck. “You did a good job, baby…made me feel so good, thank you.” 

He spoke his praises into her hair in between kisses, rubbing a large hand up and down her exposed back. She sunk into the feeling, head still hazy but paying more attention now to what her body craved from him. Terry gently laced his fingers in her locs, pulling back to find her eyes again. 

“You gon’ let me take care of you now?”

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @harmshake @uniqueoutlierblog @notapradagurl7

@planetblaque @urfavblackbimbo @brattyfics @hotmessexpressssss

@soft-persephone @blowmymbackout @sweettea-and-honeybutter

@wakandamama @avoidthings @mzindependent

(lmk if u wanna be added/removed from this, i just went through my other terry fic rbs)

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

[avoidthings]

kitchen’s closed | t. richmond

About: Terry catches you in the kitchen late at night and has his own idea of a midnight snack. [word count: 2.1k] Warnings: Explicit language. 18+ Readers Only. Oral (female receiving), Unprotected PIV (wrap your willy, pls). I had concepts of a plot. 

It was well past midnight in North Carolina, and you could hear the crickets and other critters abuzz outside of your bedroom window. You stared at the sliver of moonlight cast between your curtains, realizing the clutches of insomnia had sunk its sneaky fingers in you yet again. 

Your boyfriend, Terry, rarely stirred in his sleep, and kept a hefty arm draped over your waist every night. Being that he was ex-military, it was sort of ironic how heavy of a sleeper he was. Some evenings you tried to count the rise and fall of his chest instead of sheep, but rather than lulling you to bed it just disgruntled you. You wanted to poke the bear awake and damn him for leaving you so smitten. 

The room was quiet aside from the bustle of the outdoors, and you thanked God your man didn’t snore or else this would feel like a torture chamber. You flipped through the rolodex of your thoughts and landed on recapping your day; you went to work, Terry picked you up and made a stop at Kroger, then you two watched some sitcom reruns for a bit. House rules were to grab takeout after grocery shopping so neither of you had to bother with cooking something. 

All that thinking of food must’ve sent a reminder to your stomach. You exhaled as it grumbled. While very cute, you would rather not see Terry’s grumpy face should he discover his miso soup missing. You perked up at the memory of slipping a pint of ice cream in the shopping cart earlier. 

It was counterproductive, solving sleeplessness with sugar, but you hoped Ben & Jerry’s would be your saving grace tonight. You peered over your shoulder to find your boyfriend as sound as ever, eyes fluttered closed like a saint. 

After a silent prayer, you wriggled from his hold and toed out of bed. You pattered around the twilight of the room, starting your mission to the fridge. Past the master bathroom, the thermostat, (which nearly broke the two of you up), and to the far right of your living space was your destination. Thankfully, the range hood light was on so you weren’t too sore of eyesight. 

You opened the freezer and plucked out your reward. After grabbing a spoon, you settled in, sitting on top of the counter. The granite was cold against your bare thighs, your body only blanketed by a worn t-shirt that hung off your shoulders. 

That first mouthful was instant gratification and you nearly rolled your eyes back in delight. 

“Baby, what are you doing up this late?” You were startled by Terry’s voice, the tone more gruff from the interruption of his slumber. 

You were caught red-handed, spoon in mouth, so you shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Wanted something sweet.” 

He hummed. Terry made his way closer, no longer a distorted shadow in your peripheral vision. He had come to bed in only his sweatpants and socks. 

Terry had a glow about him, even in the dim of your surroundings. He slipped comfortably in your personal space, stepping right between your legs. You relished in the warmth. 

You had to look up even with the extra height the counter gave you.

“Sorry to wake you. I know you have to go for your run in the morning,” you said. 

Terry gave you a lazy smile and shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Everythin’ okay?” You nod wordlessly. 

“Hey!” You protested when he nabbed the pint from you, his hands quicker than your reflex to reach for it back. It was a battle you would more than likely lose anyway. 

He successfully hushed you by taking a scoop from the container to raise to your lips. 

“Open.” 

You held his gaze as you took what was given, inciting a groan that rumbled low in his chest. 

Terry obliged you once more and made notice of your tongue swiping to the corner of your mouth to catch what you missed. His own hunger dwelled in his underbelly. Between your job returning to the office and his growing trucking business, you haven’t made much time for intimacy as of late. 

“I think I’m in the mood for somethin’ sweet too.” The spoon and tub clattered by your side and he disappeared from your view. 

“Terry--” 

“Open,” he demanded once more, kneeling toward your feet, causing fire to crawl up the back of your neck. He did not take kindly to being ignored, and you wanted this to be an easy night, so you let your legs spread apart. 

He tossed one behind his shoulder, mumbling something inaudible to you. A kiss to your ankle, the inside of your knee, then your thigh. 

A yelp pierced the air when Terry’s large hands claimed the curve of your hips, tugging you closer to the counter’s edge. Your clammy palms braced themselves on the flat surface beneath you. You could feel his smirk and goatee rubbing on your exposed skin. 

Your breath quickened with the anticipation of what was next. His mouth ghosted over your center, blowing on your clit through your dampening panties. 

“Oh, fuck,” you shuddered. 

He was a merciless man, dropping open-mouthed kisses to your clothed center. He retreated as you tried to furl into his touch, reaching underneath your shirt to roll your nipple for more stimulation.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Terry inhaled your scent without shame. Finally, the cotton of your undies was torn from your pelvis to who-knows-where. You felt the coolness of the air over your exposed skin for a brief moment, the absence of touch not lasting long. 

You jerked, feeling his tongue swipe a slow strip up from your wet entrance, gathering your slick. He lewdly spat it back over your clit and sucked until you cried out. Terry ate you without abandon, with little regard for any manners, overtaken by his own greed. --

“I missed how you taste, baby.” Voice muffled in between your legs, his eyes flitted up at you, earnest as always. Terry’s grip maintained the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs spread so he could continue to steal all breath and sense from you. 

“Oh my God,” you moaned. Your brain and your body sounded an alarm, reeling with the increasing need for release. His name fell like a chant from your mouth. 

Two fingers pushing into you caused the band to snap, Terry immediately seeking the button that left you gushing. He was unaffected when your heel dug deep at his shoulder, urging his face further in your pussy as if it was possible. His fingertips sped in pace, turning your mewls into high-pitched squeals. 

Soon enough, your back bowed with the intensity of your orgasm. He tightened his hold, keeping you steady as the current flowed through you. “That’s my girl,” he kissed and licked you through it. Pleasure never reached a precipice when you were under his care, and you shouted to the heavens.

When your legs eventually deflated, your hands found his ears, rubbing behind them gingerly. A grunt slipped from his mouth.

Terry staggered to his feet, hooded eyes glazed over your heaving body. His teeth nipped between your breasts over your shirt, up to your collarbone and your neck. You hooked a leg around his waist, pulling him in to feel his erection prod at your inner thigh. 

Instinctively, he rutted up against you and you sighed. You were warm all over, sheeted with sweat and clenching around nothing, wanting only to be full of him. 

His lips left your jawline and found your mouth, luring you into a mind-numbing kiss. You cradled Terry’s face in your hands and took control, allowing your tongue to slot against his. It felt all the more indulgent, the lingering taste of chocolate on your lips mixed with your own arousal. 

He was still rubbing on your leg and it only intensified your need for connection. Like a minx, you curled into him, purring in his ear. “Terry, I need you. Please.” 

Your hands lowered to explore the solid planes of his body, all of its beautiful ridges and scars. He leant down so his forehead was touching yours. “Fuck, I need you too, baby. Been losing my damn mind about you,” he breathed.

Terry yanked at the waistband on his joggers and his dick sprung free. You two didn’t usually forgo protection but your cycle was around the corner, and desperation made your judgment very foggy. 

His fingers splayed under your shirt to grasp at your plush waist, thumbing the folds of your belly from where you sat. Terry pushed his way inside, coating himself to about half of his length. You sighed into his hold, legs locked at his torso, trying, and failing to meet him in the middle. 

Without much effort, he stilled your movements. Terry pulled out slowly, and slapped himself over your clit twice, leaving you to squirm pitifully. “Stop teasing and just fuck me, already,” you whined.

Terry did as told and burrowed into you in one, deep thrust. You ate your words in a choked gasp. His head cocked back as he felt your walls squeezing him, putting the cords of his neck on full display. 

Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried desperately to hold on to the thread of resolve you had left. Terry trampled on it when he set a brutal pace, drilling in you like you owed him something. Your ears were ringing with your own moans and the sounds of skin slapping against each other. It all felt like too much, far too soon. 

You pressed a hand to his chest feebly and whimpered. Promptly, he grabbed your trembling forearm and kissed the inside of your wrist. “I’m fucking you like you wanted, huh? Why you tryna run from me?”

“It’s t-too, m-much,” your words were slurring and you frowned through the pleasure, hoping he’d give you relief from his punishing strokes. That all too familiar storm brewed in your belly again and you couldn’t stifle any noise that left your lips. Each thrust brushed against that sensitive spot within you, and you try your might to stave off your climax. 

His stare was focused on you, utterly enamored by your carnal state. “Terry!” You wailed, slapping the countertop behind you and shifting to scoot away. The crack of his hand on the side of your ass rang loud and welled your eyes with fresh, salty tears. Terry landed a sweltering kiss on your lips to pacify you. 

He gripped you by the coils at the nape of your neck, and you blinked at him, huffing out shattered breaths. You wanted to ask him why he was fucking you like this, and what did you ever do to deserve it. But your brain could only compute expletives. You clenched and unclenched around him greedily, and his teeth clashed at the sensation.

“Stop holding back, I can feel it. Let that shit go.” And under his spell, you did, surmounting to a shaking ball in his arms. Your toes curled at his sides and his rhythm didn’t falter, his own release not far behind. You keeled with overstimulation, the air feeling sticky on your skin.

Terry’s hands abandoned your waist to cup your ass, bouncing you on his dick in hardy, final thrusts. You bite down his shoulder so you don’t scream loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood. His head is buried in the crook of your neck now, sweat dripping on your collar. 

“‘Gonna make me cum all in this tight pussy, fuckk,” he groaned, ropes of his release starting to spurt inside of you. Your body was taut around him as his hips slowed to a halt. You were filled to the brim.

“My pretty baby did so good. So perfect for me,” Terry was panting like he just finished a mile-run, and still chose to sing your praises. He softened and pulled out, a part of you now missing. You sat there for a beat to catch your breaths, limbs still tangled together.

“Mm..’can’t stop shaking,” you whispered.

His actions had left you exhausted, drowsiness coated in every blink of your eyes. Terry separated from you for a second and he had his pants back on, scooping you up in his arms. You latched onto him like a bear, nuzzling into his chest.

If it was up to you, you’d pass out right there and crawl to bed in the morning. Something squished against his foot on his trudge out of the kitchen. 

“Shit, my socks are wet…what is that?” 

Ice cream.

--

Author’s Note: Just wanted to drop my contribution to the Terry Richmond industrial complex.

P.S. This was supposed to be Trainer!Terry but my hormone monster won. 

As always if you made it to the end, thank you bunches!

[sweettea-and-honeybutter]

Spooky Season Terry 👀

I gotchu anon 👀🖤 I couldn't actually picture Terry as like something supernatural or not human so I present you with delusional stalker Terry, I think this is probably more dark than spooky...

Want You (oneshot)

A/n: I am purposefully not tagging anyone cause this is a pretty dark story, read at your own discretion and minors kindly fuck off.

Summary: Terry x female reader, you unlock psychopathic behavior within Terry

Warnings/Content: Stalker/Yandere behavior, Terry obsessed, oral (female receiving), mirror sex

Word Count: 4,365 sorryyyy I seem to be incapable of writing a quickie 🥴

He wishes he’d never set eyes on you. Actually, he wishes you didn’t even exist. That first glimpse of you was like some kind of gateway drug, and now he was a full on addict, doing anything in his power to obtain more and more pieces of you. 

You were torture itself. What sadistic being sent you to the park that day? Terry watched you, sitting on a bench perfectly placed in the shade of a tree, eyes closed and head tilted up to better hear the singing birds. He admired the serenity that seemed to surround you, and it stirred something in him. Your eyes slowly opened when you heard Terry jogging by, and you gave him a friendly smile, and Terry nodded to you, as if everything was fine. But it fucking wasn’t.

You stayed on the forefront of his mind while he jogged, his memory of you vibrant-your beautiful skin exposed to the sun in your athletic set, your pretty eyes pulling him in within just a few seconds, your plump lips he wanted to suck the life out of. Why? Why did you pick him to trap in your grasp?

Terry took another lap around the park, just to see you again. He stopped in front of the empty bench, frustrated because where the fuck where you, any why was he looking for you? He decided it didn’t even matter, you didn’t matter, he’d never see you again. But his body instinctively led him to the parking lot, and there you were, getting into your cute little car, happily chatting away on your cell, completely unaware of your surroundings. You’d missed the hulking shadow that stood in the spot you just left.

~~~~~~~

It was Terry’s shitty, horrible luck that he ran into you again. He’d been just starting to find other things to occupy his mind. He’d never had a human obsession before. Usually, his compulsions were limited to strenuous physical activities; his time in the military had taught him that being present in his body was a perfect way to numb his mind—a dark place he preferred not to linger in. And he liked it that way. Alone, controlled. So this weird fixation on you? It was new, it was out of control, and he fucking hated it.

That’s why he was so grateful the memory of you had finally started to fade after two weeks. His mind was clearing, and he’d begun to feel like himself again. And then there you were— innocently stretching on your tip toes reaching for the last box of cereal on the top shelf. You just happened to find yourself at the grocery store he’d claimed for himself, because they always had his favorite protein bars in stock. And now you’d taken this from him, too.

Before he could think, Terry found himself striding toward you, his steps stiff, almost as if he were being pulled to you. His broad, solid frame just barely grazed yours as he reached up and snatched the box from the top shelf. You gasped, startled, and turned quickly, a nervous smile forming as you prepared to thank whatever giant had come to your aid—only to falter, the words lodging themselves in your throat.

You felt your mouth go dry under the steely look in his gray eyes. They were beautiful, maybe, but they pierced right through you. His face was unreadable, but there was something so oddly familiar about it.

Terry’s eyes studied every detail of you, and you were even prettier up close—that was just plain unfair. His body was buzzing with energy, his mind flashing with a desire to see you caught off guard as he was, to show you what it felt like. But he wasn’t an animal. You wouldn't rob him of his restraint like you did his sanity.  So he reached around you, tossed the cereal into your cart, and brushed past you without a second glance.

“Uh… thank you,” you managed, a confused, breathless call, but the words fell on deaf ears.

What the hell was that? Why did he look so familiar? Why did he look so… angry with you?

~~~~~~~

Terry really played himself, when he’d only meant to play with you. Your scent stuck to him, he should’ve never gotten so close. Why did you have to smell so irresistibly good, like you were created exclusively to make him suffer. He doesn’t want to want you. He purposefully didn’t want anyone at all as much as they always try. But your smell lingered on him, infiltrated his psyche. He had no choice but to follow you home. He hated himself for it, and hated you even more.

From there it was so fucking easy, almost as if you didn’t know you were entertaining dangerous company. Your front door only had 2 locks, you were on the top floor of your building so you never locked your patio door or windows, you didn’t have any cameras. Do you not care about your life at all? Terry would have to fix that, would teach you, once he made you his, how to exist in this world without being easy prey.

He found himself in your place so often now, especially while you were home. It sent a shiver up his spine to move when you moved, expertly ducking around corners to stay undetected. He listened to your conversations, ate the food you made whenever you’d fall asleep, read your journal entry of recognizing the handsome stranger was the same man from the store. And yeah, he even sniffed the toys you used to make yourself cum, stealing your little bullet vibrator, putting it in his mouth once he got back to his place, and he came the hardest he ever has to date, the taste of your essence pushing him deeper into obsession.

His nose is actually what gets him caught. He’d overheard you telling your best friend about wanting to get a furry companion, the puppy of your dreams to make your place feel less lonely. And so Terry, who’s hatred for you was teetering on the edge of affection, got you the ugly little fucker. And it whined and shat and yipped all night. Terry called out of work, because no one needs to experience him so sleep deprived, and made his way over to your place. He laid on your bed, with your sleep shirt over his face, and breathed you in over and over again until the frustration dissipated. Unfortunately for him his heart rate slowed too much, and that's how you found him.

You were having a bad day enough as it is. Your boss sent you home early after being a dickhead to you all day, claiming your poor work would just slow the whole team down. Good fucking riddance, you were already interviewing for other jobs. You didn’t expect to discover a huge, faceless man on your bed. Your body shook as you looked for a weapon, and panicking, you let out a screech hurling all the shoes you could get your hands on. Terry cursed, standing quickly, the shirt still on his head leaving him disoriented and unable to block your throws. You screamed louder at the sheer length of his full height.

“Get the fuck OUT!!” you threw books at his head, backing away as he moved towards the sound of your voice.

“Would you stop-” an umbrella popped him right in the mouth.

“I’m calling the police! Get the fuck out!” you swung and hit his neck, and swung again, jamming the umbrella into his crotch. 

Terry doubled over with a groan of pain, and charged instinctively. He’d somehow managed to blindly knock you into a wall, causing you to lose consciousness. He finally yanked the damn shirt off his face. Terry looked down at you, unconscious and vulnerable, and released a disappointed sigh. Look at the shit you’ve gotten yourself into. See how easily he’d taken you down, even when he could barely see? Imagine if it had been some other sick fuck breaking into your apartment. You wouldn’t stand a chance. The thought made his chest tighten, a possessive anger sparking beneath the frustration. You needed him to be the one guiding you, teaching you how to survive in a world full of people just waiting to take advantage of your carelessness.

He leaned closer, his eyes tracing the outline of your face as if committing it to memory. "What would you do without me?" he whispered, a quiet promise he was sure you’d thank him for someday. Gently, he scooped you up from the ground, cradling you close for a fleeting moment before setting you on your bed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. With one last, possessive glance, he left.

But he’d be back. This was only the beginning of showing you just how much you needed him.

~~~~~~~

Terry watched you file a police report, change the locks on your door, install cameras, and purchase a gun. He was pleased; finally, you were taking your safety seriously. You even made progress on being more aware of your surroundings, glancing over your shoulder everywhere you went—yet your eyes somehow passed right over where Terry lurked. There was still so much for you to learn.

A week later, he showed up at your door. He rang your new doorbell, and bent to look right into the camera. The hand that wasn’t holding your phone flew up to your mouth. You didn’t see the face of the man who was in your bed that day— it was covered the whole time. But the look on this man's face, you knew it was him. The intensity behind those striking eyes, it was the same at the store, and the same at the park. Fuck. 

You grabbed your gun off your entry table, and held your breath, eyes locked on your phone which was displaying Terry on the other side of your door.

“I know you’re in there, I can hear you.” His voice was so soft, and deep, his lip curved into a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. After a moment, he spoke again.

“Aren’t you going to welcome your new baby home?” He moved back slightly and held up the puppy with a precious blue bow on its ear. It was sleeping peacefully in Terry’s palm, as if it wasn’t being held by a monster. You hesitated. You should really call the police. Maybe if he looked outwardly creepy, you would’ve by now. There was no denying your attraction to him, or your curiosity, but he’d crossed so many lines, probably more than you even knew about.

You unlocked the bottom 2 locks, and kept the chain lock done at the top, cracking your door open as much as the chain would give. You slowly peered at him, hand flexing on your gun, and watched as bent to eye the chain.

“Hmm that’s a nice touch bunny. Although-” you jerked back quickly as Terry reached his hand through, easily finding the latch and flicked his wrist undoing the chain. You stepped back on shaky legs as he pushed the door open all the way, the air seeming to thicken around you. He tsked at you, a mockingly sympathetic smile on his face “-that chain was much too long, I can adjust it for you-” 

You dropped your phone and raised your gun, gripping it tightly with both hands, “I don’t need you to fix anything! I need you to stay away from me.” Terry was completely unphased, quirking an eyebrow at you as he shut the door behind him. He stroked the puppy’s soft fur as he walked towards you, his fingers lingering as if savoring the innocence that contrasted sharply with his darkness. He walked until he felt the barrel of your gun dig into his stomach.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that bunny?” He grabbed your wrists with one of his big hands, forcing you to point the gun down as he pushed you to walk backwards until your legs hit the back of your couch. You were breathing heavily, chest heaving into his, lips trembling, eyes darting between his frantically. Terry leaned over you, pausing in front of your face to really take you in, before he reached around you and set your still happily sleeping puppy down on your couch.

When he straightened back up, he brought his other hand down to wrestle the gun from your fingers, and you winced in pain at his roughness. 

“Don’t point this at someone unless you know how to use it.” his tone was dark and reprimanding, and you squirmed under his intense gaze as he carelessly threw the gun behind him. 

His closeness was making your body grow uncomfortably warm. You looked up at him, eyes wide with fear, body shifting nervously. “What the hell do you want?” Terry cocked his head, squinting his eyes at you, trying to understand if you were really that naive.

“I want you, obviously.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, trying to mask your anxiety with defiance.

“Oh and this is how you show me you want me? Do you think this shit is cute?” You didn’t know his eyes darkening was a warning, you were too caught up in your rising rage. “I mean are you fucking kidding me? Buy a girl a coffee, ask for her number. On what planet does stalking someone, like a fucking loser, ever w-” Terry reached up and gripped your face tightly, squeezing your cheeks so your mouth puckered and you couldn’t speak. His other hand grabbed the small of your back and pulled you into his hard body. You were stuck, embarrassingly so, as he looked into your eyes, straight through you.

His lips grazed your own as he spoke. “Careful love,” his grip on your face tightened and your eyes started to water, “just because I’m already yours,” he gently nipped your chin, letting his words sink in through your defenses, “doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like that.” You trembled in his hold, body and mind unable to agree on the proper fight or flight response.

Terry moved his hand along your jaw, around the back of your head to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing you to hold his serious gaze.

“As I was saying, I want you. And after watching you for a while now, I realize you need me.” His fingers tightened in your hair, a dangerous mix of restraint and possession in his touch. You could feel your heart hammering, body tensed as his gaze bore into you, unyielding.

"I know what you’re thinking," he murmured, his voice a dark and smooth, "that you can resist, or that you still have control. But look at you—" his nose nuzzled your own, and a knowing smirk curved his mouth as you shivered. "All I had to do was step inside your world, and now you can’t imagine me gone."

You wanted to deny it, to pull away, but Terry’s grip was absolute. His other hand slid down your back to your ass barely covered by pajama shorts, his fingers pressing in just enough to leave an impression, a quiet reminder of his dominance as he pressed his body closer. Heat radiated between you, the space narrowing to nothing, and with every heartbeat, your defenses crumbled.

"You want me to stay away?" he whispered, his mouth inches from yours, his breath mingling with your own. "Tell me to leave, right now." His words held a challenge, daring you to take control—but every inch of his touch made your mind blur, need flickering to life in defiance of reason. His hand released your hair and trailed down your neck, leaving your skin tingling in its wake.

Your voice barely managed to break the silence, a breathless whisper. "I…"

"That's what I thought." His mouth descended on yours, not a kiss but a claiming. His lips pressed hard, unyielding, a mix of punishment and desire that left you gasping. When he finally pulled away, his eyes held a raw hunger that matched the fire now building in your own. 

Terry turned and used the hand on your ass to guide you down your hallway, and his ease moving around your home was unnerving. He brought you to your bathroom and positioned you in front of the mirror, his body pressed tightly against yours from behind, his broad hands splayed possessively over your hips. You could feel his huge bulge digging into your lower back, and you bit your lip trying to mask your excitement.

“Look at yourself,” his voice was low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. One of his hands slid up, tilting your chin so that you were forced to meet his eyes in the reflection. His gaze was heavy and crazed, daring you to look away. “See what you do to me? And you’re gonna pretend you don’t feel it too?”

Your pulse raced as his hot hands roamed over your body, lingering on every inch as if he was committing you to memory. His fingers trailed down to the hem of your shirt, sliding beneath to meet bare skin, his touch both teasing and possessive. He nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Already falling in line, just like I knew you would.” You felt his hand at your waist tighten, pulling you flush against him, grinding against your plump ass, every inch of his body demanding your attention. “Go ahead, bunny… show me how much you need me.”

Your breath caught, and his eyes gleamed in the mirror, watching every reaction you couldn’t hide. His hands wandered higher, fingers cupping your breast and tweaking your nipples with practiced ease, each touch deliberate and maddeningly slow. He watched, satisfaction etched on his face, as you melted against him, every inch of you responding to his command. Your hips moved with his, mouth dropped open in silent pleas, pretty eyes searching his to anticipate when he’d strike next.

His voice was a whisper, dark and possessive, as he pressed his lips to your shoulder, never breaking your gaze in the mirror. “You’re mine,” he growled deep in his chest, his fingers roughly pulling your nipples, his mouth leaving a trail of heat against your skin. “I want to watch you fall apart… right here. Just like this.” You moaned helplessly, the pain, the dark promises, it was so much to process so suddenly, and left you compliant to his will.

You lifted your arms obediently as Terry pulled your shirt over your head, and his mouth watered at the sight. His firm touch pushed you until your face was mushed against the mirror, and you gasped at the cold glass grazing your nipples. You had to brace yourself by gripping the counter with your hands so you wouldn't fall into your sink completely.

“Fuck bunny, you look so good” Terry groaned, grinding into your ass harder, scratching his nails roughly down your back, “but I know I’m too big for you baby, I need to get you ready for me.”

And with that Terry dropped to his knees, pulling your shorts with him. He ran his hands appreciatively from your ankles to your thighs, groaning at the sight of your glistening pussy just inches from his face. You squirmed, feeling his hot breath panting onto you, and he roughly gripped your ass with both hands, spreading you crudely, presenting your precious essence to his greedy gaze. He didn’t care anymore that stole his sanity, didn’t care that his attachment to you made you a weakness, you were his now. His to own, his to devour. He inhaled your scent deeply, his pupils dilated, and he gave himself over to the hungry darkness.

His tongue was everywhere at once suddenly, and you cried out at the feeling of his wet lips sucking your clit, his long tongue darting into you, and his hands smacking your ass, forcing you to move your hips to keep up with him. Terry could feel you dripping down his chin, and his eyes rolled back. He’d been starving for you so long and finally you were feeding his gluttonous desire. He moaned into you, bringing one of his hands up to rub your clit, lapping at your juices eagerly wanting to get every drop from you. You were a moaning, babbling mess and he couldn’t get enough. 

He pulled back slightly, leaving a bite on your thigh as he eyed your untouched hole, his fingers still harshly massaging your clit. You squealed as you felt him spit right on your virgin ass hole, moving to stand before his free hand smacked your ass roughly again.

“Stay. You can take it, baby.” And his tongue explored where no one’s had before, and you hated yourself for grinding back onto his face, drool leaking from your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks from the overstimulation this strange man was causing you. It felt to fucking good. He moved his hand from your clit to thrust 2 fingers into you, groaning at your tightness, at your sweet taste, at the helplessness he heard in your voice. You came just like that, legs buckling, voice hoarse, body overheating.

He gave you no time to recover, quickly standing, not even taking the clothes off his sweating body, just pulling his achingly large dick free from his pants. He needed to have you, right the fuck now, but he also needed you present, in this moment with him. He reached around your limp body that was still leaning against your mirror, and snaked his arm up to firmly grip your neck. You protested tiredly, feeling him arch your body up until the back of your head was on his chest, and you moved your hands to his strong thighs to hold yourself up. 

Finally you opened your dazed eyes, taking in your fucked out self before locking eyes with Terry’s in the reflection, noting the delighted look on his face.

“Heyyy, there she is,” you hissed, feeling his hard tip slick through your wet folds as he began to grind, his deep voice coaxing you back to alertness, “that’s my good girl, don’t take your eyes off of us.” Terry watched you twitch and whimper as he smacked his leaking tip against your sensitive clit, and he gave you a sinister smile.

“I want you to watch yourself become mine.” His grip tightened on your neck as he roughly thrusted into you, only able to get halfway due to his large size, and you screamed quietly at the delicious stretch, nails digging into his thighs desperately trying to brace yourself.

“Oh fuck baby, that pussy is so much tighter than I thought” Terry stilled, looking down in fascination at the way your creamy essence trailed down the length of him he still couldn’t fit, and he almost came at the sight alone.

“Its okay bunny, I’m gonna get deep in her, watch me” he excitedly gripped your neck tighter, and brought his other hand to circle relentless fingers around your clit. You gasped and moaned and wiggled your hips slightly, and Terry had to close his eyes at the feeling, silently scolding himself for almost cumming too quickly. 

He started to give you shallow thrusts, deep groans leaving him as he felt more and more of his dick settle inside you, and you began to crave the feeling of being completely stuffed, so you started to grind back onto him and his head shot up, eyes finding yours again in the mirror.

“Yesss baby, that’s it. Take more of daddy’s dick” you couldn’t control your noises now, and Terry couldn’t even appreciate the fact that he was fully inside you because you were throwing your ass back onto him so fucking well, ass smacking loudly on his thighs. He released your neck, and used both hands to grip your hips, pulling you back harder.

“This pussy is so good baby, I fucking knew it would be” your head bobbled at the strength of his thrusts, and your eyes never left his face, compelled to being good for him, to earn his praises. “And this pussy is all mine, say it.” His nails dug into your hips pulling you harder, and you disgustingly loved that you’d have marks later to help you remember that all of this was real, and that it really happened. 

“Yesss daddy this pussy is yours” you moaned helplessly, tears flowing once again down your cheeks at the feeling of his tip harshly kissing your g spot from this angle. You brought your hands up above you, to grip the back of his head, turning your head slightly so you can look directly into his smokey gray eyes. “I’m gonna fucking cum daddy, you’re gonna make me cum” Terry was transfixed, sweat rolling down his face, mouth hanging open as your pussy squeezed down tightly onto him with your orgasm. This beautiful object of his sick obsession, his helpless bunny he needed to protect from the world, coming undone just for him, finally.

Terry pulled out of you suddenly, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he shot hot streams of cum on your ass, hands holding on to your hips as if you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this reality. Your hands stayed wrapped around his neck, too afraid you’d drop right to the ground if you let go, and Terry struggled to catch his breath as he rested his softening dick on your ass cheek. His voice was quiet when he spoke again.

“I know reality will sink in for you later tonight, when I’m gone” his hands softly massaged your hips as he continued, "Try to run, if you want. I’d love the excuse to come find you again." He chuckled softly, and you shivered knowing he was dead serious.

~~~~~~~

Happy halloween ya freaks 👻

[4pfsukuna]

She want a big dawg

Inspo: that trend on tiktok and yall know the one. Somebody made a edit to him to this and i seen the vision. Plus the girlies been saying they tired of smutt so

warning: its purely fluff; 865 word

Being ex military Terry always felt like he was on guard— being a light sleeper, always scoping the scenery out, early morning 6 mile bike rides but there was just something about you that put him at ease.

You were so soft, gentle, always finding the humor in something even if you did have a bit of a dark sense of humor. The scent of coconut always lingered on your smooth skin and your lips stayed pink and glossy no matter how much you licked them. 

The way you thought you could command him to do something even being nearly half his size when all he had to do was give you complete eye contact and you would fold like a lawn chair. All you had to do was bat those pretty brown eyes up at him and that man would build you a house anything to keep that smile on your face.

And in the evenings he loves sitting on the porch with you more specifically he’ll come find you wherever you are in the house, wrap his large arms around you and carry you listening to you rant about your day, or whatever book you were reading or whatever you see on social media.

“She dont want no puppy she want a big dog” you sing for the fourth time since he picked you up holding you with just one arm as if you weighed nothing and he just chuckles at you when you place a bunch of kisses on his face.

“You better chill before you start something mama” he leaves a peck on your lips watching the way you look at him with so much love and admiration like he hung the sun moon and stars in the sky just for you.

Ignoring him you squeeze him tighter in a hug loving the way he kisses the top of your head pulling you closer inhaling his scent feeling the humidity kiss your skin the minute he walks to the porch swing. down south was always warm but nothing could beat the warmth of your embrace.

“Babe, you know how much I love you?” You smile up at him tightening your legs around his waist and he holds your face in both of his large palms pecking your forehead, then nose and finally lips.

“What silly little tic tac trend you trying to trick me into now?” He asks, reading you like an open book watching the way your jaw drops. He knew when you were sweet talking him and what for too— you had been singing that song that one specific part for the past two days. 

“Its tik tok! And what you think you know me or something?” You playfully scrunch your face up pushing your long dark curls that fell from your bun out your face. He chuckles, angling his head down to you watching you squirm instantly. No matter how long yall was together it was certain things he did that still gave you butterflies and made you nervous.

“Baby girl don't insult me, of course i know you” and he pulls you back to him tightly closing his eyes enjoying the sound of nature as day turns into evening. “And i know if you keep pulling away from me imma have to really pin you down”

Terrys love language actually was physical touch, loved having you in his arms, carrying you, waking up in the morning to you still cuddled up to him or when he’s making breakfast and your little arms wrap around his waist grumbling about him leaving you and the bed being cold without him. Or when it’s your turn to cook dinner and he steals kisses knowing you don’t like to be bothered when you cook, always successfully fishing when you swat at him for trying to steal food from the pot. So who were you to deny this time as if your love language isn't spending time together.

You finally settle in his arms, head on his chest yet halfway on his upper arm and he sinks further into the swing slowly rocking it back and forth, left arm running up and down your back unaware of your antics until something catches his ear.

“She dont want no puppy” the music plays and you try to sit up as if he made empty threats tightening his biceps around your shoulders, he definitely was not against pinning you down. “She want a big dawg”

Opening his eyes he looks down at you watching how contempt you look with him squeezing tightly around you not even bothered in the slightest only looking up when you see him looking at you through the camera.

“Ok ok im done go ahead put your old man music on” you giggle happily. you got your video and his muscles were wrapped tightly around you, even placing a kiss on his bare chest before laying back down. Ignoring your slick comment he puts on redbone by childish gambino and like clockwork your hands start running over his back and arms slowly and softly turning him into putty, unraveling his muscles slowly putting him at ease like you always do. 

[bo-katan]

@giftober 2024 | Day #5: Angelic

Anakin Skywalker could not take his eyes off the girl. He noticed her the moment he entered Watto's shop, even before Watto said anything, and he hadn't been able to stop looking at her since. He barely heard what Watto said to him about watching the shop. He barely noticed the strange-looking creature that had come in with her and was poking around in the shelves and bins. Even after she noticed he was staring at her, he could not help himself. He moved now to an open space on the counter, hoisted himself up, and sat watching her while pretending to clean a transmitter cell. She was looking back at him now, embarrassment turning to curiosity. She was small and slender, with long braided brown hair, brown eyes, and a face he found so beautiful that he had nothing to which he could compare it. She was dressed in rough peasant's clothing, but she seemed very self-possessed. She gave him an amused smile, and he felt himself melting in confusion and wonder. He took a deep breath. "Are you an angel?" he asked quietly. The girl stared. "What?" "An angel." Anakin straightened a bit. "They live on the moons of Iego, I think. They are the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They are good and kind, and so pretty they make even the most hardened space pirates cry like small children." She gave him a confused look. "I've never heard of angels," she said. "You must be one of them," Anakin insisted. "Maybe you just don't know it."

Star Wars Episode I - The Phantom Menace by Terry Brooks

[theereina]

Let Me Talk Pt. 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +1.9K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, all smut, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), fluff, P in V, spanking, car sex

A/N: 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 @theereina. 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.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

Part 1 => 🗣

“Move your hand. Don't even take’em off. I got it,” Terry said, ripping the seat of my panties. “Ughh, really?” I cried out while reaching for Terry's chest. “Uhn uhn, Mama. Move that!” Terry said. He grabbed my hand and pushed it above my head. “If you move the other one, I'm grabbin’ it, too!” he said, pulling his pants down past his knees.

Terry's dick fell from his pants, bouncing against the back of my thigh. He had me folded in half with my knees by my ears. His knees were digging into the backseat as he propped himself up between my legs. This position was going to be the death of me. His hand rested at the base of his heavy dick. Leaking precum and growing with prowess, it was eager to enter its home.

I looked up to find Terry's gaze locked between us. He let go of my hand and gave me a stern look. “You gone hold your legs for Daddy, baby girl?” he asked, sliding his dick up and down and dragging it through my wetness. I didn't say a word. I eagerly looped my arms around the back of my knees and locked my hands together. “I missed this, pumpkin. I missed every bit of you. Can I show you? Can Daddy show you how much he missed you?” he said, rubbing the head of his dick against my entrance. “Yes, please just fuck me already!” I moaned out.

“You don't gotta tell me twice,” Terry said, pushing himself inside. My pussy immediately clenched around him. I was feeling flustered by the feeling of his dick inside me. It had been months since we last had sex. The craving I felt had me aching all over, and Terry's moans weren't helping. The sounds he released were primal and carnal, coming from deep within his underbelly like a roar. Every sound he unleashed struck a nerve, intensifying every touch.

Terry's body leaned over mine. “Look at me. Yeah, that's right!” Terry said, letting himself slip out to the tip. “I want you to watch me take back what's mine,” he said as his hips slowly ground into mine. There he goes— doing what he does best. Making me lose my fuckin' mind. His deep slow strokes made my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“Nah, what did I say? Eyes on me,” he said, lifting the back of my head to make me watch his dick slide in and out. “Find it, pumpkin. Find your focus. Don't get lost on me, love. Come on,” he said. His dick was bottoming out at this point. Every stroke kissed something inside of me that I had never felt before. I couldn't explain it— we weren't fuckin', but we weren't exactly making love either. Maybe this was a happy medium.

“Look at how she's swallowin’ Daddy. Doesn't that look so good? Tell me, baby girl. I wanna hear you,” he said, letting my head rest on the seat. I let my eyes drift back and forth between his eyes and my pussy. I couldn't talk. I was feeling too many things at once. My pussy, body, and mind were all simultaneously overwhelmed and overstimulated. “Fine. Since you don't want to talk, I'll make you scream instead!” Terry boasted. He pushed my hands away and leaned over me. His arms were now positioned on both sides of my head. He took his time to sink back into me as he pushed his thighs against mine, holding their position in the air.

He used his arms for leverage to thrust down into me now. “Ughh!! Terry, please!” I begged. I could feel every inch of him inside of me. “Terry, what?” he asked, glaring into my eyes. His hips smacked against my ass. If anyone saw this truck from the outside, they would know exactly what was happening. The force of his hips knocked moans out of my mouth with fever. “You… gone… talk… to… me… now…, huh?” he asked between each stroke. “I can't. Ahhh! Ugh, oh shit! Please, don't…” I said as my thoughts were leaving me.

His dick was making me scatterbrained— not a thought behind my eyes. “Please, don't what?” he asked, slowing down inside me. “Huh? Please, don't what? Tell me!” he groaned. Dick in and dick out. Dick in and dick out. That's all I could focus on. I couldn't even concentrate on the words leaving Terry's mouth. It was like he was hell-bent on claiming my pussy using his dick.

“Take it, pumpkin. Take it,” he said, leaning down to kiss my neck. His lips sucked and nibbled their way to my breast. I let my hands rest on the back of his head. “I can't,” I whined and bit my bottom lip. Terry peered up at me from underneath his lashes with my nipple in his mouth. Fuck, what a sight!

“You gone take whatever I give you,” he said as his hips started to slow down again. With each stroke, he was rolling his hips in a circle. My pussy was clenching around him again. “So, that's what we doing? You wanna do that to Daddy, huh? Using that goody pussy against me. Fuck!” Terry said as his head rolled back on his shoulders. “Make… me…cum!” I said in between each of his strokes. Terry's gaze locked onto mine. I could tell the wheels were turning in his head.

A smirk spread across his face. This look alone meant he was up to no good. “Make you cum, huh? That's what you want Daddy to do?” he smiled. I could sense a small hint of laughter in his tone. Never taking his eyes off mine and never slowing his hips, I felt his hand slide across the front of my throat. He wrapped his hand around and squeezed lightly— a tease. “Mmm, fuck!” I dragged out. “Yeah, you feel that! I know you do. Tell me how Daddy's dick got you feelin’,” he said, holding the pressure for a little longer this time. He used the grip he had on my neck to pull me down onto his dick. Each stroke pounded my pussy out with force. One thing Terry could do was fuck me senseless, and I was gonna let him do it every time.

“Terry!” I said placing my hands on the one he had wrapped around my throat. “Shit! That’s a good girl. That’s right. Stay with me, pumpkin. Daddy’s got ya’!” Terry said, releasing my throat and letting his hand slip behind my head. “Please, I can’t… Fuck!” I moaned as I threw my hands up and pressed them against the door. “You can’t what? Look at yourself, mama. Stop tellin’ me what you can’t take. Come on. Look!” he said, lifting my head again. Terry slowed his hips down and delivered the most feverish strokes. My eyes were stuck on the sight of bodies connecting. Terry guided my eyes to watch his dick slide back inside of me until my pussy had devoured every inch, deliberately making me feel every bit of him.

“See, pumpkin. Daddy’s pretty baby is takin’ him so well. Now, don’t you ever tell me what you can’t take. You hear me?” he said, glaring at me. I avoided Terry’s eyes. I couldn’t look at him— not without losing my mind. “I told you I was sorry, right? You forgive Daddy? Huh, mama?” he said, kissing a trail up the back of my calf. “Y… yes, Daddy. I— oh. I forgive you,” I whimpered. “Yeah, you forgive Daddy, baby?” Terry said, fisting my hair. “Yes…, please… I… I need to cum,” I moaned as I struggled to form a single coherent thought.

“Then, give me what’s mine!” Terry said, placing his arms around my waist and lifting me. I was positioned so that my weight rested on his thighs. His arms remained around me as he pulled me flush against his body. I reached behind me to reinsert Terry’s dick back inside me. “That’s right, mama. Get yo’ shit,” Terry said kissing my lips. I placed my arms over his shoulders as his hips started moving again. I lifted myself a little to give Terry the space he needed to thrust up into me.

I was on the edge of my climax, and I could sense Terry was, too. I could tell that he was holding back. “Let it out, papa. I want it!” I said, kissing his neck. “You want it? You know where it’s going right, mama?” he asked, pulling my hair. I started bouncing up and down on Terry’s dick, trying to match his momentum. “That’s my girl. Show daddy how you got that ring,” Terry said, smacking my ass.

I placed my hands on Terry’s shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. My lips curled into a smirk. This should have let Terry know I was about to go on a championship run. I used his shoulders for leverage to get on my toes. His hands dropped down under my ass, so he could assist me on “the ride”. Terry rested his forehead on mine. With every bounce, Terry matched my energy. Slapping noises filled the truck as I put on a show. “Fuck, pumpkin. That’s… ah, shit! Now, that’s how you ride Daddy’s dick!” Terry groaned.

My heart began to beat in my ears. My toes curled, and my belly ached. The back of my thighs grew tight as I pulled Terry closer. I was about to cum. Terry sensed the tension in my body and took over. He continued pounding into me. “Let it go, baby. Let it go,” he said, kissing my lips. My pussy clenched around Terry’s dick, practically locking him in place. My head fell on his shoulder as cum squirted out of me and splashed all over Terry’s lap. “That’s it. Good girl!” Terry said, peppering kisses all over my neck and shoulder.

The sticky wetness between us only amplified the noises of our bodies still slapping together. Terry’s hips stuttered as I came down. “Daddy’s gotta finish, baby. Just a little more,” he groaned, continuing to pummel my pussy. Every stroke drove him closer and closer. His eyes closed, his eyebrows knitted together, and his bottom lip hung in a pout. He pulled my hips down, holding me there. I felt his dick throb inside me once he bottomed out. I prepared myself for the explosion. As soon as I clenched around Terry’s dick again, his cum shot out inside me.

I could feel Terry’s head drop onto my shoulder. My pussy began to push him out. I lifted and let his dick slip out of me, flooding his lap with a mixture of our cum. I leaned back and grabbed Terry’s face. His chest was still rising and falling as he was coming down from his high. “I love you. I hope you know that,” I said, kissing his forehead. “I love you, too. Am I forgiven?” Terry asked as he pushed my hair back and out of my face. “Mmm, I don't know, yet. I may need another apology,” I said, giggling.

Taglist: @brattyfics @avoidthings @cocooned-butterfly @5headsupremacist @ariiijestertheklown

@creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh @armandosbabymama @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @gg-trini

@deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo @skyesthebomb

@blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @iburias @androgynousgaz

@becauseimswagman1 @geee3bayyybeee3 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho

@pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @ineedmyaccountback

@rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @nayaesworld @babybratzmaraj

@pinkpantheris @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi @blyffe @helloncrocs

@amyhennessyhouse @beenathembo @thiccc-c @qtmkenedy03 @persethegawd

@onherereading

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (4)

Summary: A storm in Shelby Springs threatens to take away everything Terry loves.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4,131

Part: 4 of 5

Warnings: Mentions of violence.

Chapters: One. Two. Three

The past was a funny thing. 

In an instant, all of the promise and joy of tomorrow could be snatched away, ruined by the sins of yesterday no matter how deep they were buried in the Earth. 

When Terry limped away from Shelby Springs just before the heat of Summer could settle into the air, he expected to be gone for good. He’d taken his bruises like a man and cut his losses, never to speak of the horror he’d experienced at the brink of death. Horrors that flashed through his mind as he sat with his back aching in a wooden chair at Summer McBride’s kitchen table. 

Soft humming by the stove kept him tethered to reality though the present conversation had long turned into background murmurs. Summer sat opposite him, smart tablet in hand, as she scrolled through documents and videos sorted in a digital folder labeled evidence. 

“They didn’t delete every video. The especially heinous ones, they kept on a separate drive for blackmail if they didn’t get what they wanted. Mike’s in here.” No answer. Terry maintained his focus on the wallpaper just past her head, not blinking. “D’you hear me, Terry? Terry?” 

Still no answer. Summer peeled her concerned gaze from his face and directed it toward Patrice as she started to step closer. Patrice offered her an apologetic smile and touched Terry’s back to rub slow, soothing circles. He stiffened at her touch before picking a new spot in the room for his undivided attention.

“TJ, if you don’t wanna see the video, we understand. Right, Summer?” 

Summer nodded though she disagreed. “Right. But, you gotta know they might show this one in court tomorrow. I’d rather you be prepared now.” 

“It’s your call. Say the word and we’ll stop right here.”  

Patrice punctuated her statement with a kiss atop Terry’s head before draping her arms over his shoulders. 

He sighed and reached across his body for her hand. “How bad is it?” 

Once again, Summer looked to Patrice for guidance. A nod gave her permission to tell the truth. 

“Not life threatenin’ but…pretty bad.” 

“Play it. I’ll tell you when to stop.” 

With trepidation, Summer pressed play on the video and slid the tablet across the table. 

Terry and Patrice watched the last known footage of Mike as he encountered officers Marston and Lann. What started as a traffic stop with Mike as the passenger devolved into a brutal beating. Each blow to his body felt like a gut punch to Terry as he watched, tears welling up in his waterline. 

“Oh my God,” Patrice whispered to herself. “Maybe we should stop right here.” 

Terry shook his head and clenched his jaw, his eyes never leaving the screen. “No. Let it finish.” 

Watching the beating in its entirety became his self-inflicted punishment. He should’ve been there to protect his baby cousin. The least he could do, in his mind, was experience a fraction of the pain Mike was subjected to, even if it made him sick to his stomach. 

The video ended abruptly with no resolution outside of Mike being cuffed and thrown in the back of a cruiser like a wild animal. Patrice gripped Terry a little tighter, nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck just as a tear slid down his cheek. Summer sat across the table with her head bowed in silent prayer. 

Sniffling and the rhythmic tick, tick, tick of a wall clock were the only sounds in the room, leaving space for shared grief among the unlikely group of vigilantes. 

After some time, Terry swiped at his face to rid himself of the evidence of his sadness and forced out his question in a hoarse voice. “So what’s next? What do I gotta do to make these motherfuckers pay?” 

“Just tell your story. The defense is gonna antagonize you. They’ll try to make you confused, get you turned around and caught up in a lie, but you can’t let ‘em. Edwin Carter’s on the prosecution and he owes me a favor so, he’ll handle your prep. He should be here soon if you’re feeling up to it.” 

Terry mulled over the thought of rigorous back and forth before looking to Patrice for her opinion. “What you think, Treece?” 

“I think that every one of these pieces of shit should rot in hell. If you wanna fight, let’s fight. But as soon as it’s too much, we’ll pack up the truck and go home. No explanation needed. Fuck ‘em. No offense, Summer.” 

“Understandable. None taken.” 

“Fuck ‘em,” he parroted, chuckling at the sound of his sweet girl cursing like a hardened criminal. He looked at Summer who waited expectantly for an answer as he slid the tablet back to her. “Tell me about Carter. You think he’s in this like we are?” 

“I know he is. He’s got a vested interest in seeing Burne and that whole department crumble. Been on his heels for years. This was just the right time to bring the hammer down. He’ll take care of you.” 

“Then we’ll take care of him,” Patrice interjected. “You think he’d be down for a hot meal?” 

“If he ain’t, I sure as hell am. I haven’t cooked in here in ages.” 

“Come grab as much as you’d like. TJ, I’ll make your plate.” 

A kiss on the forehead was Patrice’s way of exiting the conversation to busy herself with dinner preparation, leaving Summer and Terry at the table alone. Summer watched him reckon with his decision and cleared her throat for his attention as she stood. 

“She’s good for you. Don’t screw it up. Take it from me.” 

Don’t screw it up.

The simple sentence sat with Terry through his half-eaten dinner and grueling trial prep with Edwin once he arrived. For hours they meticulously picked through Terry’s story, poking holes to simulate the courtroom and inducing stress to ensure that he was prepared. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His throat burned from repeating the same words over and over and over until they were seared into his brain. He left that house in the middle of nowhere emotionally exhausted and nearly regretting his decision to answer Summer’s call to action.

Terry’s chest had grown tight with anxiety that followed him back to their cramped hotel room on the outskirts of town in what Summer considered a safe zone for him and Patrice. 

The amber glow underneath the bathroom door was the only light in the room. It was barely visible as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling listening to the sound of running water while Patrice brushed her teeth. Mike’s video played in his head on a demented loop. Every scream and crack of their fists against his flesh was magnified in the theater of his mind. He was a man tormented with no end in sight. 

He didn’t hear when Patrice shut off the water or when she called his name to see if he was awake. He only felt the empty spot beside him dip as she climbed into bed. She cozied up next to him without speaking, throwing her leg across his waist and laying her head on his chest once he’d opened his arm to welcome her presence. 

“I thought you were asleep,” she whispered in the dark. 

“Not yet. Was waiting on you.” 

“That’s sweet.” 

His chest rose and fell quickly with his chuckle. The feeling made her smile in the dark though he couldn’t see. 

They lay in silence for several minutes, both of them listening to the other breathe as a soundtrack to the night. Patrice felt herself dozing off until Terry’s deep voice cut through the still air. 

“I’m scared, Treece.” 

She didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yeah? You wanna talk about it.” 

“Not really. Can you just…talk? About anything. I need to hear your voice.” 

“Of course, baby.” Patrice nestled closer to Terry, earning a tight hug as a wordless thank you for her understanding. “Sometimes I think about the first time we met. I’d heard about you from some of the girls in homeroom, but they made you sound like some random dickhead on the football team. But you were so sweet. And that smile, God that smile. I’d never seen anything like it. I still haven’t.” 

“What’d you think about me then?” 

Patrice sighed from the sweet memory. “I thought you were special because you were kind and smart even though your friends weren’t. I thought you were too skinny to be so tall, too. You looked like you hadn’t grown into your body yet.” 

Terry chuckled. He vividly remembered spending hours in their garage gym each week desperately trying to bulk up so that he could shed the gangly giant image that had followed him from middle to high school. 

“What do you think about me now?” 

Running her fingers along his arm, Patrice stopped at the gunshot wound on his shoulder. She traced the raised scar before sliding her hand back down to lace her fingers with his. 

“I think you’re beautiful inside and out. I think that in every single galaxy, you’re my person. And, even if there’s one where you’re not, I’d still spend my whole life searching for you because your absence would leave me feeling empty inside.”

In the pitch-black room, they searched for each other, desperate to share their affection. Their tongues danced a beautiful waltz together in lockstep. The subtle smack of lips joining and separating raised the hair on the back of Terry’s neck as he fought to restrain himself. Not here. Not now. Not before he had the opportunity to do right by her and make their union official in some grand gesture he hadn’t nailed down the plan for just yet. 

He owed her more than rushed sex in a low-rank hotel on the eve of what could be a life-changing moment for them. 

Sensing his reluctance, Patrice abandoned her thoughts of straddling his waist and pulled away from the kiss to take a breath. Terry gently rolled them over beneath the sheets to act as the big spoon in their equation. 

“I love you. So much,” he whispered in her ear, this time making sure that she heard every syllable. 

Patrice lifted her head to look over her shoulder and kissed his bottom lip. “I heard you the first time. I love you. I’ll always love you.” 

“Marry me.” 

Patrice’s giggle soon turned into full on laughter, prompting Terry to join in despite his simple statement not being intended as a joke. She settled in and began lulling herself to sleep by dragging her finger along the outline of his Bad Brains tattoo that she’d committed to memory. 

“One day, maybe.” 

Unfortunately, sleep never came for Terry. He spent the entire night listening to the soft snoring Patrice swore didn’t exist and thinking through every scenario for the hours ahead. If they were quick, they could skip town and leave all of this shit behind. Maybe they could settle somewhere like Detroit or Chicago. She’d get a new job as a teacher and he could find work doing anything as long as she was happy. She’d never go for that convoluted plan, but it was a good enough distraction from his reality. 

In the morning, when the sun was high and the earthy aroma of a midnight rain had settled over the city, Patrice and Terry stood hand in hand in front of the courthouse with Summer by their side. 

It was now or never and, on the last day of testimonies, now was the only option. 

Patrice sat with the rest of the spectators beside Summer, her eyes trained on Terry as he fidgeted with his tie on the witness stand. Chief Burne sat beside his attorney with a smug grin plastered on his weathered face. He was convinced that every minute of this trial was a farce. Soon a jury of his peers would find him not guilty of crimes he surely committed and he could get on with the status quo. This wasn’t his first rodeo. The system was made for men like him. 

Without a word, the defense attorney stood up and started toward Terry. He pretended to clean his glasses before speaking, adding flare to his one-man show. 

“Terrence. Or do you prefer Terry?” 

“Terrence, please.” 

“Right.” the attorney responded with a curt smile. “Terrence, shall we begin?” 

A rhetorical question. There was no way out. 

For what felt like an eternity, Terry was subjected to question after question regarding his whereabouts, his training, his motives, and why the twelve people sitting on his left should believe that the Shelby Springs police department was a corrupt organization headed by a man intent on defrauding citizens from here to Atlanta out of their hard-earned money. 

Sweat pooled under his arms like the remnants of a monsoon. His heart raced with every thinly veiled accusation. His cuticles were nearly picked raw from his nervous scratching. He felt nauseous, highly irritable, and alone with every face in the room seeming to frown back at him like he was the one on trial for countless atrocities. 

In the sea of adversaries, Patrice kept her gaze sympathetic in hopes that he would take her expression as a life raft in a raging storm. 

Closing arguments came after a short recess, leaving Chief Burne’s fate and serval victim’s justice in the hands of twelve strangers randomly selected to balance metaphorical scales of guilt and innocence.

The wait was unbearable and energy draining. So much so that he couldn’t find the wherewithal to engage with Patrice over dinner at a local diner while she gushed over the quality of their evening special. 

“Getting solid Nashville hot chicken outside of Nashville is like a miracle. We should play the lotto tonight too.” Terry acknowledged her excitement with a quick half smile, barely looking away from the window he was resting against. Patrice persisted. “How’s your food?”

“It’s, uh, it’s good. Solid steak. Potatoes could’ve been cooked longer, I guess.” 

“Want me to send it back,” she asked, preparing to flag down the young waitress servicing them for the night. 

Terry declined and pushed his food around the plate. “I’m not even hungry. We can box it up for you to eat in the morning.” 

“Alright. Well, how’s football going? Anything new?” 

“Nope. Teenage boys still smell like sweat and weed 24/7. If they don’t tighten up, they can kiss that dream of a state championship goodbye.” 

“That’s why they have you, Drill Sergeant. Whip ‘em into shape.” 

“I don’t really have the energy for all that these days.” 

Solem silence settled over the pair as Patrice studied his tired, sunken eyes and sagging shoulders. He looked defeated and for good reason. If she could hand him a win on a platter, she’d spare no expense and sacrifice anything to make it happen just to see him smile again. 

A quiet sigh escaped past her lips before she rested her fork across her plate. “I’m gonna run to the restroom then we can get out of here, okay?”

He didn’t answer or look her in the eyes to signal that he’d heard anything she said and she didn’t push him despite feeling completely disregarded. 

Half of him wanted to chase behind her and drop to his knees in a dramatic apology. Hurting her was never his intention, but the weight of the world was crushing him relentlessly. 

Footsteps approaching the table moments later made him take a deep breath in preparation for an apology or paying the bill. The opportunity never came. 

Instead, he found himself face to face with Sandy Burne and that devilish grin he’d grown to despise. 

“Terry Richmond. We meet again and, somehow, under even worse circumstances. Enjoying your last meal before things get real bad?” 

“We can test how bad they can get if you’re feeling ambitious tonight. I got some gas left in the tank from the last time we saw each other.” 

Sandy chuckled and widened his stance. “Better save it, son. You’re not too far out of Shelby to avoid consequences and repercussions should things escalate the way they did before.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“I never make threats. I write checks that me and my men cash. Ask Mike.”

Terry could feel his heart rate reaching dangerous levels. He wanted to cause physical harm, break limbs, step on throats - anything to inflict pain on an everpresent thorn in his side. 

Burne relished the opportunity to make him uncomfortable. He took note of Terry’s fingers curling into a fist against the table as he stared straight ahead. “Ooh, are we upset? We could take things to the parking lot if you’re feeling ambitious.” 

Impulse control had faded where the need for violent retribution stepped in. Common sense was out the door. Terry’s eyes darted between the entrance and the small group of men that had formed outside the window awaiting his next move. He sized them up, ranking them from the least to the greatest threat, and made his decision. 

He began to move out of the booth. 

“Sandy fuckin’ Burne, you peckerwood son of a bitch. To what do we owe the displeasure of seeing your worn out, leathery face up close? Zoo couldn’t hold you?” 

Patrice stepped closer, her tone deceivingly jovial though she meant every word as a targeted insult.

Sandy took a step back to let her pass as she headed back to her seat across from Terry. He scoffed at the idea that she could speak to him with no regard for his position in society. 

“I’m sorry, have we met?” 

“Oh, God no! I don’t frolic with terrorists or walk in lockstep with the wicked. You’re a God-fearing man, right?” 

“I am.”

“Good. You should be. Because your time is coming, Sandy Burne. I’m sure of it.”

“What are you trying to say?” 

Patrice looked him up and down, her eyes briefly stopping at the light right spot around his left ring finger where a wedding band presumably once sat. She smiled and flickered her gaze back up to his face screwed in a scowl. 

“Nothing your wife hadn’t already said when she left your sorry ass for somebody with a functioning brain and half-decent dick. Kathy was her name, right? I bet she doesn’t even think of you anymore. But she and her lawyer would be glad to hear that you’re carrying around that pistol off duty. It’d be enough to keep you from those sweet girls for good, wouldn’t it?” 

Shock came first on Burne’s face. His mouth hung open in clear confusion before he recovered with a steely glare. His hand twitched on the handle of his gun in apparent anger. Terry pulled his bottom lip into his mouth in anticipation of the inevitable. If he moved quickly, he could disarm him, take the beating that was sure to follow, and end up in a holding cell for the weekend to save Patrice from danger. 

She, however, wasn’t the least bit concerned. She had dealt with men like Sandy Burne before. And, if she knew his type like she thought he did, he only purported a willingness to utilize real violence to get ahead. In reality, he was a man desperate for power in the most sneaky, backhanded way possible.

She kept a poker face, staring at Sandy with the same force he showed to her until he slowly pulled his hand off his weapon and tapped his fingers on the table. 

“When all of this is over and I’m back at my desk, take your gal and get out of my town, son. Don’t come back unless you are personally invited by the mayor himself. And even then think twice. I’ve given you two too many chances. Three times and both of you are out.” 

Burne didn’t leave room for additional conversation. He scanned Patrice’s face a final time to commit it to memory just in case she followed through on her thinly veiled promise to expose him to his ex-wife’s divorce attorney. He wanted to capture a mental picture of the executioner committed to destroying his life piece by piece if he made a false move. 

A final curt smile was all he left behind before exiting the same way he came and taking his cast of bandits with him. Both Terry and Patrice watched until they were clear of the parking lot and gone into the night to speak. 

“Let’s make sure we’re packed and ready to go first thing in the morning. Don’t leave anything up to chance.” Terry instructed, pulling out his wallet to toss enough money on the table to cover the bill and tip. “How did you know that about his wife?” 

“Edwin Carter is good people.” 

Terry didn’t need further explanation. The less he knew, the better. 

What he did need was a morsel of Patrice’s optimism that she tried to share once they returned to their hotel room. 

“Look. If things don’t go our way here, I need you to leave without me. Go home, grab as much as you can, then go stay with your parents or my parents. It won’t be safe for you to live alone.” 

“Everything will be fine. Get some sleep.”

The conversation came back to him as they filed into the courtroom with the surprising news of a decision. Days of no rest had left him weary and something like a warm zombie with vacant eyes and trembling hands. 

According to Edwin, reaching a verdict this soon in a case that was rushed to this degree was unusual. He didn’t know what to make of the timeline. He could only hope for the best. 

Apprehensive chatter in the room ceased once the judge stepped out of her chambers and approached the bench. Everyone stood in reverence at the behest of the bailiff before quickly settling in silence. 

The judge adjusted in her seat and then addressed the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to remind you that once the verdict is read, there should be no outbursts. Please ensure that you maintain proper courtroom etiquette and remain seated until the jury has exited the room. If we’re all on the same page, has the jury reached a verdict?” 

“Yes, Your Honor,” the foreperson answered, standing with the decision in his hand. The judge gestured for him to continue. 

Terry gripped Patrice’s hand, unknowingly holding his breath in preparation for the worst. Summer bowed her head again in prayer. Patrice closed her eyes and tilted her head toward heaven. 

Count 1: Guilty. Count 2: Guilty. Count 3: Guilty. 

Guilty down the line. Each alleged crime culminated in the same result. Justice seemingly served. A criminal enabled by a corrupt system was finally stripped of power and forced to convene with the very people he’d helped put away. 

A whirlwind of handcuffs, shouting, and a struggle sent Sandy Burne to his next destination and the trio outside the courthouse onto the steps to celebrate an unexpected triumph. 

They exchanged hugs and happy tears until the crowd had cleared and they were the only three left in the area. 

Summer extended her hand toward Terry for a shake. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Terry. I’ll text you something profound every once in a while if that’s okay.” 

“Of course. Take care, Summer. Keep me updated on your girl.” 

“You got it.” She turned to Patrice who rejected the handshake and pulled her in for a warm embrace. They rocked side to side, squeezing tighter. “I appreciate your help. And your cookin’.” 

“Come by the house any time, you hear? There’s always a spot for you at our table.” 

One more squeeze was their silent signal to let go and say another goodbye before Terry and Patrice were left standing alone. 

Terry looked out into the distance, a smile ghosting at the corner of his full lips. Optimism. 

“You ready to get out of here? I think we could get to Atlanta by the evening and stay overnight if we book it.”

“What if we didn’t go home,” he asked. His head turned to get a look at Patrice’s confused expression. She searched his bright eyes for hints at his end goal. 

“I’m due back at work in a few days, Terry. Break is almost over.”

“I’ll have you back before then. Let’s celebrate first, though. I know the perfect place. You trust me?” 

Patrice took a deep breath and nodded. “You know I do.” 

“Good. Then let’s go.” 

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo

[keyaho]

summary: kyra returns to her hometown after ten years away. she ends up braiding the hair of the one man that had and still has her heart.

authors note: he was supposed to be breaking her in half like a glow stick. idk what happened. he's all soft and shit. sometimes I write and the characters will lead the way. terry was not with me bending kyra over so he could fuck......

wordcount: 2600

warnings: none

Kyra was home this time for good. Fontaine Street was lit up as her father hosted a block party in her honor. She had just finished her nursing program and was currently a registered nurse at the main hospital. It gave her a forty-five minute commute twice a day, but the pay was worth it. Plus, her father had given her his house as a gift, having moved to another closer to his ailing mother three months ago. Markus Fields was known around the block back in the day, having run the entire Fontaine block with his crew. Remnants of that still lingered with up and coming young men wanting to emulate him. 

She slipped in and out of the crowd, hugging older men and women who had watched her grow up over the years. Some neighborhood friends commended her on making it out the hood. She brushed them off, telling them she just wanted to be a nurse. Boasting around here led to rumors and the last thing she wanted was her hometown to think she had outgrown them in a way she thought she was better than them. 

Kyra moved towards her front porch, a few people lingered there, but she slipped into the house unnoticed just to get a break from socializing. The party was going to drag on for a few more house and if it wasn’t the weekend, she’d be sneaking to a hotel to get sleep. 

“Are you running from him,’ Markus sat at the kitchen table, eating a plate of ribs and baked beans. 

“Dad,’ Kyra sighed. “I haven’t even seen him. I just came in to get a break.” 

“Well, he’s been asking about you. He came in a few months ago. Retired from the Marines, some shit went down in some place called Rebel Ridge with his cousin,’ he rambled an Kyra grew concerned. “He passed. Terry showed up here a mess.” Markus sighs. 

“Oh,’ she replies, unsure of what to say.

“He asked if you still braid hair.” 

Kyra looked to her father and slowly folded her arms over her chest. “Dad…’ 

“He’ll be by here tomorrow morning.” 

“I don’t have anything to do his hair with,’ she admitted, slapping her thighs after throwing her hands up. 

“You hair box is still in the bathroom. Combs and shit still down there.” 

“Dad,’

“Braid his hair and talk to him. He needs it.” Markus watched his daughter grab a drink from the fridge. As she left he thought, he needs you. A man in love was easy to spot and Terry long had been in love with his daughter. 

Back outside, she popped the tab on her Coke and walked towards the end of the street where the ice cream truck had parked. She needed something cold to ice out her nerves. Terry had been her first. Everything. They had fumbled one night in bed and though the sex was awkward and rushed, neither knew what they were doing, the intimacy with him could never be matched. Leaving for school had been the hardest decision of her life. She’s glad he found himself a way out too. 

Kyra saw him before he saw her. Standing next to the spades table, red solo cup held between his full lips as he pulled up his slightly large black sweats. MARINE was embellished on his shirt, the material old and faded. His hair had grown out and it framed his face in a way that Narcissus himself would fall in love. The afro was very different than the low cut cesar he had when they were kids. When she last saw him it was fresh and he came right to her house to show off. She remembered her father swatting him off the porch because she couldn’t come out once the street lights were on. From the porch she had waved, laughed and secretly pointed to her bedroom window. 

Now he was a grown man. She was a grown woman and the butterflies were still there. 

Stepping up to the truck she eyed the vintage flavors not found in commercial stores anymore. The buttercup shaped popsicle called her name and she reached into her back pocket when a hand reached over her shoulder, two ones and the two quarters held against his palm by his ring and pinky finger. 

“Aye Terry!” The seller greeted. “What you doing back here bruh? Heard you was out with them Marines and shit.” 

Maybe it was another Terry. She didn’t turn around and when the popsicle was passed to her. She ripped off the paper. 

“I got out,’ his rich baritone filled her ears. “Did my ten years.” 

That’s how long it had been since they last seen each other? 

“It’s good seein’ yall two.” He said, eyeing the way Terry stood behind Kyra. 

The whole block knew how they felt about each other. 

“Are you going to turn around?” He asked, still standing close to her. 

He moved them from the line and towards the sidewalk, people giving them way with knowing looks on their faces. She ignored them. They stood on the side of someone’s house, her back to the old wood. The ice cream tucked between her lips as she sucked on the smooth creamy treat. 

“Hey,’ she replied, unsure of what to say to him. 

“How you been, Ky?” 

“Good, um,’ 

He placed his hands beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him. There was no hesitation in his next move. His hands slid up her cheeks to the curls at the nape of her neck. His lips were soft and he kissed her slow, tasting the ice cream, her strawberry lip gloss, and her. She dropped the ice cream and grabbed his waist. He took the initiate and stepped forward and pushed her up against the house. 

“Two deployments and I would do another one if it mean coming back home to kiss you.” 

He held her face in his hands, thumbs brushing her warm cheeks. He always said the most loving and romantic shit. Her knees weakened just a little and he smiled as she looked away from him. 

“Are you still shy?” He asked. “Can’t be if you’re coming out the house in those shorts.” 

The denim shorts were high waisted with ripped holes along the thighs and one in a particular place on her ass, showing just a sliver of cheek. 

“You put them on for me,’ he says, his lips dangerously close to hers. This was not the Terry she had grown up with. This was grown Terry.

“Fuck,’ she says, pushing him back to get some space to breath. 

He caught her hands and brought them to his lips. He wore a big smile, all 32 teeth exposed as his green eyes looked her over. He stepped back up to her and hooked his finger into the belt hook of her shorts. 

“I’ll be over in the morning to see you.” 

“Your hair.” She says, remembering what her Dad had told her. “I’m braiding your hair. $250.” 

Terry laughed, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Nah, how about head for head?” 

“Terry!” Kyra hissed. That was the Terry she remembered, shit talking. Only this time, she knew he could back it up.

He placed his hand on her stomach and pushed her back against the house. 

“You’ve been the source of all my dreams, my nightmares, Kyra.” He sighed. “All I’ve thought about was you for ten years. Hoping that when I saw you again there wasn’t a ring on your finger.” 

It was getting too heavy. His confession of his feelings were too much. She might have shared them, wondered where had been and doing, but hearing them aloud sent her mind into a free fall. 

“Tell me I’m not too late, Ky Ky.” 

Before she could respond he kissed her forehead. The sky had darkened and the music was louder, people yelling and enjoying themselves in the background. 

“You’re never too late,’ she admitted. 

Terry’s shoulders slumped and the tension between them snapped. 

“Kyra?” 

The pair looked up and Terry took a step away from Kyra.

“Yeah,’ she says, addressing one of her friends from college that had stopped by. 

“Your dad is looking for you.” Her eyes drifted to Terry and she made the connection. Kyra had talked about Terry plenty of times over bottles of wine and ice cream while they were in college. “I’ll tell him your busy,’ 

Kyra shook her head. “No no, I’m coming.” 

Her friend nodded, a knowing smile on her face. “Okay.” 

When they were alone again, Terry pulled her in for another kiss. He held her head back and she rose on her toes to meet his retreating lips. 

“We can finish this tomorrow.”

Up at seven thirty, Kyra grabbed her hair supplies from the bathroom. She sifted through the box for her rattail comb and rubber bands. True to form, she had some blue magic grease and pink lotion. She kept up with braiding and didn’t need all that edge control and gel. Just the basics. Her side hustle on campus kept her afloat. She walked into the kitchen where a pot of coffee was brewing. She had ingredients for breakfast, but knew she didn’t have time to cook and eat before he came over. Terry was punctual and she had a hunch he was going to be early. 

She wore a pink robe over her pajama bottoms and shirt. The old sleepwear was loose and worn in from constant wear. She had bought it on a trip to Italy a few years ago and the soft material still held up. Her slippers were somewhere under her bed and her long polka dot socks came up to her thighs. If Terry wasn’t coming over to get his hair braided one would think she was about to go back to bed, which she probably would once he left. 

As Kyra set up the area she was going to use in her kitchen, facing the tv, she heard the doorbell ring and three hard knocks followed. Of course he was early. Taking her time, she flipped on the foyer light and unlatched the two locks. The deadbolt clicked back and she opened the door to see Terry in a black hoodie and another pair of sweat pants. His hair was picked out and she noticed his beard for the first time. He looked rough. 

“Goodmorning,’ she said through the screen door while reaching to unlock the tiny lock inside the handle. 

“Morning,’ he hummed, stepping inside as soon as he could. He brought her lips to his while dipping his tongue into her mouth. “Where you want me,’ he asked. 

“The be-uh, table, shit, there’s a chair at the table.” Kyra stepped around him so flustered she almost stubbed her toe on the table as she walked past. 

She could feel him behind her. The last time they were in this house they were saying goodbye to each other. Horizontality. Their fingers fumbled over each other as they clung to one another. 

Terry smiled and pulled off his hoodie, a fitted black tank top clung to his muscular frame. He plopped down in the chair, legs spread as if he was waiting for her to sit in his lap. She moved behind him after checking on her coffee.

“How many braids?” She asked, her fingers reaching into his hair. She was surprised his hair was freshly washed. 

Reaching behind her, she pour pink lotion into her hair and rubbed them together before sinking them into his head. She pulled the lotion through his hair, grabbing oil to apply to his ends. 

“Do what you want, baby,’ he replied. 

She hadn’t braided men’s hair in a long time so she decided to have a bit of fun. Making the first zig-zag part, she used the comb to hold his hair to the side. She applied a little ore oil to her fingers and placed her hands at the top of his hair line, gripping the hair firmly as she started to braid. 

“Is that too tight,’ she asked. 

“No, feels good.” 

Thirty minutes passed when her stomach started growling. Terry tiled his head back. 

“I can order something,’ he says. 

“You heard that?” 

“It’s been grumbling for the past ten minutes. I just didn’t want to say nothing.” 

She smacked a hand over his chest as he stands up, half his head braided. He reaches into his hoodie for his phone, pulling up a menu from a diner a few blocks over. 

“Why didn’t you say anything,’ she folds her arms over her chest at his smile. 

“You already popped me with the comb!” He laughs. “I wasn’t trying to get beat up.” 

When he sat back down, he let her work for a few more minutes as he worked up the courage to start the conversation they needed to have. 

“I was serious last night,’ he began. “There’s never been anyone else….long term for me.” Terry sighed, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “No one was you.” 

On braid six, with two to go, Kyra listened to him. He poured his heart out to her, telling her about Rebel Ridge, losing his cousin, the hate in that town and how it almost killed him. She noticed a scar on his back and when he mentioned getting shot she glanced down at it. Her fingers touched over the raised scar. Kyra smoothed her hands up his arms and rested them on his shoulders. 

“There’s a lot I want to tell you,’ she admitted. 

He was numerous entries in her journal. Her thoughts and feelings were all on paper and it was much easier to have him read it than say it aloud, but she’d get to that later. She could at least admit to one thing. 

“Terry,’ she says, wanting him to look at her. 

He tilted his head back and his hazel eyes stared into her brown ones. His full lips were slightly parted and she leaned down, kissing him upside down while she whispered her deepest feelings against his mouth. 

I love you. 

Terry jerked up, almost flying out of the seat. Kyra jumped back as he turned around and pushed her into the fridge. Hand on her belly, he propped the other on top of the fridge. 

“Say it again,’ he begged, lips wet after licking them twice. “Say that shit again.” 

“I love me some you.” She looks down for a moment. “When I went off to school I had hoped you would stop me and beg me to stay.” 

“I wouldn’t keep you from your dreams Kyra. I knew how much you wanted to be a nurse. I would have hated myself if I kept you here.” 

“I know. I would walk around campus hoping you were there, but we both needed to find out way out of Fontaine before we could find each other again, I guess.” 

“You don’t have to wonder where I am anymore.” 

Kyra glanced up at him. His eyes were hooded and low. The emotions swirling between them was overwhelming. He bent his knees so they were eye level. 

“As long as you’re at 345 E Fontaine Street I’m here with you. And if you leave, baby, I’m right behind you.”

Taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings

@mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites

@browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr

@beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina

@randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated @thatone-girly

[wellntruly]

If you read the novel Catch-22 (1961), about U.S. Army pilots & sundry stationed on a Greek island during World War II, you will encounter this off-hand description during the period where Yossarian is hiding in the field hospital:

At which you will either pause worryingly, or you’re normal.

I am not normal, because I have watched the television show M*A*S*H (1972-1983), about U.S. Army medical staff in a mobile surgical unit during the Korean War, and which features a character called Hawkeye Pierce, who frequently looks like this:

Now this bathrobe, iconic simply, appears red to the observer. However, deep into the run there is a line in which Hawkeye refers to it as "purple"—great consternation. But film cameras and light waves being what they are (capricious, devilish), it could very well be maroon in life. It could very well be maroon. It’s what I assumed after that comment. But what I'd never asked was, what is it made out of? Is that corduroy, could it be corduroy, could this be—

Oh noooooooo!

Why is Hawkeye the only one who is wearing the robe of patients from the last war, I ask you! Is it for the METAPHOR. To make me YELL. Did the costume department make it for him, or did they just already have one on hand in the WWII storage? Wait it wasn't real was it? Where is it, where is this robe!

Well babe, it’s in the Smithsonian:

A) of all, fucking fantastic, could not be a place I more want Alan Alda’s bathrobe as Hawkeye Pierce to be than the National Museum of American History. B) well well well well well, what do we have here:

[sic]

So looking THAT up brings you nothing that makes any sense, even trying to correct for spelling. But not to fear: historical re-enactors are here.

On the website of the “WW2 US Medical Research Centre,” an absolutely delightful combination of words and spelling brought to you by two European history buffs, and that’s Europeans who are obsessed with history, specifically American medical units in the 1940s, there’s a page for pajamas, and why look who’s here:

OH ho oh HO!

“Progressive Coat & Apron Mfg. Co.” is so similarly bizarre that I would be very willing to bet that something like idk, the imperfect process of digitizing thousands of records for a website catalog, could have absolutely resulted in “Agressive Coat and Manufacturing Company.” Which would mean yeah, yeah yeah: vintage World War II, slash Korea, just five years later. It was authentic, what they gave Alda to wear, along with his dog tags.

Just Hawkeye though still, which is what's odd.

BUT HANG ON.

Heeeeey now!

So I was recently reminded that in the pilot episode, but the pilot episode only, Wayne Rogers as Trapper John McIntyre also has the regulation corduroy MD/USA bathrobe! In fact, he actually has what would appear to become Hawkeye’s—observe the location of the embroidery. Pocket, like Hawkeye’s in every robe appearance after this first episode, the robe that ends up in the Smithsonian Museum. Whereas the one with the embroidery on the chest that's hanging above Hawkeye's cot here, a common variant that shows up when you’re searching around on military history websites, after this appearance I believe is seen just once more on a visiting colonel later in the first season, then quietly vanishes. Alda ends up in Trapper's, and stays in it for keeps, while Rogers gets, of all things, a cheery goldenrod terry number.

But like, why. Why just Hawkeye in the WWII surplus robe. Both Doyle and Watson have avenues here that I like to think about. For the Doylist side, I suspect it was a decision of like, this is simply too matchy. It’s 1972, our TV screens are small, we gotta take any chance we can get to distinguish these tall white men constantly wearing the same of two monochrome outfits.

In fact, I actually wonder if there was a world where Trapper might have stayed in the maroon and Hawkeye could have ended up in Henry’s robe.

The light blue & white striped bathrobe McLean Stevenson wore as Henry Blake was sold at auction in 2018, and the item description contains the curious detail of it having a handwritten tag inside reading “Hawkeye.” Well heeeyy again.

And here’s another curious detail:

There was a blue & white striped Army-issue robe as well

Now Henry’s is clearly NOT vintage WWII, lacking the pocket embroidery, being terry cloth, and also of course: pastel. But it’s INTERESTING, isn’t it? They had to have been GOING for that look, with that same unusual collar shape and that multi-stripe patterning.

(Also, for real 'what the hell even IS this color' fun, this militaria collectors purveyor has one of the maroon versions too, with photos you can page though and laugh as it flips between looking clearly purple and clearly red in every other photograph. Cameras!!!)

Anyway now we turn to the Watsonian explanation, which seems to run like this: the men at the 4077 were just casually passing their robes around to each other. It's about the intimacy in the face of war, etc. I can see bathrobes going missing when they bug out, getting stolen from the laundry by Klinger and scrapped for parts, being handed off to a poor cold Korean kid who needs it more, and then they need to get to the showers and one of them is like hey, just take mine, and then it’s his now. And eventually most of them end up in warmer-looking civilian robes than the Army holdovers that were being distributed early on, but Hawkeye, he just hung on to Trapper's.

And as a side effect, still looks like he's been injured in World War II.

[rustedhearts]

the one where you help the champ wind down after a fight (boxer!steve)…

the blurbs

the king of the ring

“mm yeah, baby, that feels good.”

unsteady fingers card through the sides of your hair. the nails scratch against your scalp on their way to the rear, where steve curls his fingers back into fists.

on the floor, a tri-folded terry cloth towel sits between your pressed knees and the carpet. you shift them, hands bracing your thighs with an inch upward. he’s heavy and full in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and prodding past your rows of teeth with an eager need to bury down your throat.

in the leather chair, steve lets his head fall back with a serene sigh. you peek up, blinking through hot tears kissing your eyes. steve’s are closed. his throat bobs with a swallow, biceps flex when he tightens his grip on your hair. his fingers pinch strands and sting your scalp. the groan you emit over his cock makes him grunt and lift his head.

“jesus—deeper, baby, c’mon. c’mon, there you go,” he breathes, voice edged with hoarse desire.

“atta girl.”

your shoulders slump, eyes fluttering shut with a contented sigh. down near his pelvis, you heave in a deep breath through your nose. his flesh is heady with post-fight musk. sweat and leather and blood and steve. only steve’s low grunts and your wet mouth are heard—married with the hum of the fan in the adjoined bathroom. your tongue rubs with every adjustment of your mouth, dragging over and over across his soft flesh.

the mere sound of that soft, slick suckle sends steve hurtling toward orgasm. the grip he has on your head shifts—down to your neck where both palms cup the width of it. something to hold onto, something to feel as his feet lift to just the tops of his toes on either side of your knees.

his chest puffs, his eyes scrunch, his mouth drops open. warmth bursts over your tongue and fills your mouth, and you hurry to swallow every new rope. he groans through every moment of his release: guttural and deep. the pads of his fingers dig into the tender flesh of your neck and you inhale deeply over his crotch to stay through it.

"oh, fuck," he moans, hands loosening to sweep your hair over your shoulder.

his breaths hold the weight of exertion, rasped out through tired lungs. there's a slight wheeze to his inhales and you know he likely has another fractured rib. a part of you wriggles with delight knowing you gave him some sort of relief from it.

steve slumps down into the chair further, cheeks moist and pink. you pull off of him slowly, letting the wet warmth of your lips glide away. steve huffs when his softened cock falls against the tent of his shorts. his hands uneasily pull them back into place as you stand to your feet.

"mm, c'mere, angel," he rasps, adjusting his thighs to sit a little wider.

you settle yourself into his lap, thighs bookended on either side. your hands work through his hair. the front of it is darkened with sweat, beaded at the hairline and gathered in the chestnut heap. it gets all over your fingers when you knit them through, but he tips his head back and grins, and you know you've been good.

"did i do a good job?" you ask anyway, voice small in the vast, empty room.

steve hums again, hands roaming over the globes of your ass. he watches you through the heavy lidded lines of his lashes. every breath seems to pulse on his cheeks, cherry red and haloed with a blissful glow. you feel it gather in your own face when he slams the surface of his palm over your left ass cheek and grabs it—hard.

"fuck yeah. filthy 'lil angel," he purrs, and he inches up on his elbows to offer you his mouth.

you meet it greedily, whining into every loll of your tongue and taste of his lips. he can't bring himself to stop feeling the fat of your ass, but he takes one hand off to tangle it back in its rightful place in your hair. just to hear you squeak, just to watch you wince when he couples it with the scrape of a sharp canine over your bottom lip.

steve sinks back again and cocks his head. watches you pant and play with the silver of his chain. your bottom lip is swelling already, puffy where he split the flesh. you run your tongue over it and he watches your cheek tick with the pain.

but you hook your finger in his necklace and lean forward to kiss his collarbone.

"take me home, champ. wanna be filthy a little more."

[skxllz]

Jealous Ian and Mickey??

say no more

+

“ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲? ”

warnings; mickey being mickey. physical violence (typical shameless shit). ian with rings + getting arrested hehe. blood mention. I think that's it??

date posted; 12.9.23

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

usually, ian wasn't the type to get jealous. he had his moments in the past with mick’, with that fucker that had talked shit on ‘im at the bar. and maybe that angie girl... but that was a while ago. maybe even with svetlana, but of course that couldn't be helped. and maybe that one time when they first met you...

okay, maybe ian did get jealous. but that was besides the fact. he's never felt uncontrollable rage before when it's come to anyone other than mickey. the time mickey and svetlana married? he wasn't just heartbroken; he felt the need to actually kill terry and tell svetlana to fuck off in front of everyone, even though technically the circumstances weren't her fault. with you, he's never felt that — not since you started dating him and mickey.

it's funny really, for both of them. it was the moment ian realized he actually was in love with you — same for mickey. only, mick’ didn't realize until after the fact.

it started off with an actual date night between you three. ian told you that him and mickey planned one a while ago but it never sought through because some bitch named sammy got him arrested. you didn't know who the sammy chick was, and ian didn't explain who she was, but you mentally vowed that night to stick it to her. that's why you took them both out a week later, to some fancy restaurant on the west side.

mickey complained about a few things on the way there; the fact that he had to wear a tux, the way it fit him, and that the west side was the last damn place he wanted to be. he claimed it was where the ‘ rich bitches with those stupid nose bandaids ’ live and he wanted no part of that parade. you reassured him though that those noses of theirs would end up bleeding if they gave him the slightest problem.

to say the least, you gave him a boner and a good convincing.

after you arrived at the destination, you had watched while entering the restaurant as the two males gawked at the scenery of the place. it made ian question you just how you were going to afford everything —in which you laughed and just replied with “ don't worry, i’ ”— and mickey mutter under his breath just how much the golden posts by the doorway would go for on ebay. you swatted him on the shoulder since you heard ‘im.

you guys’ little trio was escorted generously to a nice window booth at the back of the restaurant, giving a nice view of the back patio where a fountain and little glowy fairy lights were displayed; giving off a familiar, comfortable feel. and, although you felt as ease, you could mickey still did not by the way he was tugging at different ends of his suit and scooting around in his seat.

“ mick- y’okay? ” ian asked, giving a puzzled questionable expression. the red head had been reading over the drinks menu when he noticed his boyfriend acting out of place.

“ this place gives me the fucking quivers... ” mickey muttered, once again shifting. “ I feel like ‘m bein’ stared at. ”

ian snorted at that. usually mickey didn't let shit get to him - especially people, at that. if there a problem, he'd sort it out himself, so why was he acting off now. “ why's that bothering you? ”

you were now looking at mickey as well, expecting him to answer as you raised your brows curiously. you too wanted to know why he was acting differently.

“ because, ” he sighed in frustration, only then leaning across to table to harshly whisper to Ian, while sparing you a slight glance. “ because I rather not fuckin’ ruin this night for y/n, okay? jesus christ. ”

ian's lips formed an o shape in realization. you were more sensitive than they were, so he could understand why mickey felt that way — didn't want to embarrass you or anything. if that happened, who knows how long of a grudge you'd hold.

mickey sat himself back just as a waiter approached. he was tucking in his finely pressed, button down shirt into his apron, not necessarily paying attention to his surroundings as he dropped a pen from his pocket. y/n realized — and, the good samaritan he was, he scooted out from the booth to crouch down and pick it up.

“ uh- here, ” he stood, pushing his hand out towards the waiter. “ you dropped this. ”

“ oh, ” the waiter extended a hand to take his writing tool back. and, as he did so, lifted his head, “ thank you- y/n? ”

“ blake? ” y/n asked, surprise on his face. “ holy shit. ”

that right there is when the first wave of jealousy struck in the night. the look of realization on both of their faces made Ian and mickey exchange glances — and, although ian felt a twist in his stomach, he wasn't exactly indifferent about the reunion just yet. mickey was, though. he looked sour.

and he was right to. throughout the remainder of the hours there, their waiter, blake, would always give you a smile that was always more than just a smile. he'd stop by more often than meant to, as well. asking for refills when it wasn't necessary, stopping by seconds later thinking he forgot a plate when in reality there was none to take. it pissed your boyfriends off - mickey especially.

the brunette had to withhold standing up and violating the guy where he stands. in mickey's mind, he wishes, wishes, that his stare alone could make this blake motherfucker burst into flames. it'd make his year. probably ian's too, because mick’ knew for a fact that his ginger companion was ready to blow the minute blake stopped by to give you the check.

ian's fingers were death-gripping his fork and his jaw was set. eyes pointed towards the table... and you were oblivious to it - cause you were too busy smiling at him.

“ say- ” blake spoke as he handed off the little black booklet to you, “ since it's been awhile, I was just wondering, would you like to hang out sometime? ”

mickey's head snapped up then. “ the fuck? ” he finally broke for the night. he's had enough. “ no- no, he won't like to fucking hang out sometime, ” mickey mocked, looking absolutely fed up. “ are you fucking nuts? you got some cotton in your damn brain- low iq? ”

the look on blake's face was priceless. his eyes were wide, jaw was dropped open. the hand that had stretched out to take the check back, paused midair. even you were looking at mickey like he was bat shit insane.

which, he probably was. but honestly, what do you expect with dating a milkovich?

“ you need to fucking scram before I pop your head off’a your body like a fucking cork. ” mick’ spat finally - and that was the straw that left the drink empty. you heard enough, scooting closer to mickey to calm him down.

“ mick- ”

“ who the hell are you talking to? ” blake's response made you whip your head around in his direction, eyes as wide as golf balls. was this kid crazy?

mickey looked at ian, who was already looking at him, ready to murder someone, before steering his eyes back onto the blonde male. “ I think I'm fuckin’ talkin’ to you- now y/n, sweetheart, move so I can kill this fucking rat. ”

by now, everyone around was staring. low, hushed voices whispering to one another, other waiters and waitresses watching the scene go down with saucer-bound eyes. a few folks had their phones out, recording, while others were on the phone with police.

“ I'm not moving. ” you sternly spoke, looking mickey in the eye so he knew you meant business. “ you promised you wouldn't make a scene tonight yet here you are, doing exactly that. ”

arms dramatically launched out of gesture to the blonde waiter, “ he was clearly hitting on you! ” mickey emphasized, making sure to get in through your head that you were being blind. you were. “ he wants in your fucking pants! ”

“ he does not want in my pants! ”

“ yes he fucking does! ”

“ stop swearing at me! ”

“ oh fuck off, get a grip! ”

you both were too busy arguing to notice that ian had gotten up from the table and approached blake. it wasn't until you heard gasps around you and a loud “ fuck! ” come from said blonde, followed by a thud, did you and mickey raise your heads.

ian was shaking off his hand with a blank mask of anger while blake lied on the floor, clutching his nose. blood gushed out through the cracks of his fingers, the red liquid flowing down and hitting the dark flooring of the restaurant.

people around looked frightened; staring at ian in horror, as if he was a monster. it was dramatic really.

a few of blake's coworkers rushed to his aid while ian walked back over to you both. his fist was raw and red, and his knuckles were slightly split open, but it wasn't too bad besides that.

“ holy shit... ” mickey breathed out, eyeing blake's bloody face from over your shoulder as he was stood to his feet. he was wobbly, wincing, trying not to shout as someone bumped him. it looked as if ian broke his nose. “ holy shit. ”

“ ian! ” you hissed, “ what the fuck! ”

ian shrugged, “ he got what was coming to him. he shouldn't hit on what isn't his. ”

you blinked lazily. shoulders slumping, breathing coming out in realization. “ but... I'm yours? ”

mickey scoffed and slipped his arm around your shoulders. “ are you insane? of course your ours, y/n. I wouldn't bite someone's fucking dick off for you if you weren't. ”

ian nodded towards mickey, “ what he said. I wouldn't just punch anyone. the dick deserved it. ”

you were silent for a moment, processing the emotions you felt. even though the gossip around you was annoying, you weren't necessarily mad at your boyfriends. moreso, you were just annoyed because the rest of the date was ruined. sure, you had dinner, but you wanted to do much more.

of course though, you couldn't, because the cops ran through the entrance seconds later.

“ he's over there! ” you saw the hostess point towards your red haired companion. ian swore under his breath, only to turn on his heel and book it in the opposite direction.

“ run, i’! ” you scream, looking worried.

“ fucking run like hell, ian! ” mickey looked worried too, surprisingly. I mean, it was his boyfriend, but usually he wouldn't let his emotions get the best of him cause of his pride. but here we are.

the night ended off with ian getting put into cuffs and walked out to the cop car. You and mickey both promised to bail him out somehow, and that you'd explain everything to his siblings.

“ oh- hey, y/n? ” ian called, just as the officer was shoving him into the vehicle.

“ yeah? ” you call back.

“ I love you! ”

your heart damn near skipped a beat. chest fell as you lost breath, a smile of joy spreading across your face. with happiness now in your heart, you lifted your hand, waving him goodbye.

that's when mickey suddenly pulled you by the arm, ripping a gasp from you, and kissed your temple.

“ I love you too, weasel. ”

[alien-bluez]

raahhhh guh. another lineup, s2 kiddads. i love them so much they're rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken. god.

design notes for them under the cut if ur interested!

Grant

blue sweater bc blue is symbolic of titanic ep (something borrowed, something blue)

his tie color is the same color as Darryl's hat in my design

Wears Frank's watch that Darryl gave him, even if it's broken he doesn't take it off.

Green creeper socks because it's a Must. He wouldn't be Grant without them.

Sparrow

curly hair he got from mercedes' genes. he grew out his hair like lark

has a pink flower tucked in his hair like my henry's design

his jewelry and clothes are mostly borrowed from mercedes, he got really into crystals and other things like that growing up and got closer to his druid roots.

earrings are a feather and an oak leaf maybe i dunno i'll figure it out later lol

tattoos! there's supposed to be a bird outline there and other plant/nature related stuff on his arm. I'll draw it out better in the future mayhaps.

colors are brighter, more lifelike cuz he's closer to nature and all that jazz.

Lark

his hair has strands of white hair because of stress/trauma/Everything going on

hair is messier, unkempt because he cares less about appearances and doesn't have time anyways.

darker forest colors, less in tune with nature than sparrow.

his pants are the same color as my Henry's shorts :0) i needed a connection somewhere to his parents, and it just had to be henry.

Terry Jr.

purple shirt because his color is purple to me

fish motifs!! everywhere! i hc that when he and ron get closer bonding thru fishing they'd get each other fun fish printed shirts or something. This was Ron's gift to Terry. The colors of the fish are color picked from my Ron's design.

Fish tail tie and the shirt is also split like a fish tail maybe.

he's the tallest of the kiddads forever and always

Nicky

he wears glenn's sunglasses on his head

he grew out his hair long like morgan's because it's like the one thing he still really has of her. has her hair type and he takes very good care of his hair.

still has the ripped leather jacket from his time as nick and various patches of bands he likes (didn't want to draw them out yet.)

blue shirt because of his time as nicholas/reminder of jodie. blue holster belt and pants are also blue for jodie association