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simplyzeeka · 2 days ago

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Episode.3 Season.1

Absolutely Astronomical

Trying to love

Wanna be free

So, God, tell me please

Is it in the stars

Warnings: MDNI!! Profanity, adult themes, themes of infidelity, grinding, mutual pining. Just... stars.

Summary: Some mistakes are unsolicited, but definitely preventable. But Syrae and Terry never really had the kind of control, have they?

A/N: Please excise any errors. Not proofread. Enjoy!! Anything in italics is a flashback

Rainy weather was always Terry's favourite time to decompress. He would usually just whip up a hot meal and enjoy it in front of a good mystery movie, or just paint something abstract on a fresh canvas, a new interest of his.

But sometimes, especially since meeting Amber, his ways of decompressing have changed… drastically. If he wasn't balls deep inside of her, best believe he worshipped what lied between the thick of her thighs with his face. Or sometimes, quality time was more than enough, even with non-sexual affection.

That was his plan after a long, exhausting day at work. The sudden cold weather had his body chilled, he wanted nothing more than to warm up with his wife.

Amber, a woman of bewitching beauty. Deep brown skin that glistened especially in the sun, a body so alluring that curved and rolled in every way he liked. Terry always believed he was lucky, because as beautiful as she was on the inside, her morals and values reciprocated with her external beauty.

She laid in a bathtub filled with foam and smelt of lavender. Candles lit on the side with a glass of wine in her hand. Terry almost didn't want to interrupt, but it's been a while since they spent time together since their short honeymoon.

“Baby.” Terry called out to her, softly as he walked towards the bathtub. He crouched down, his face close to hers. The faint of jazz music could be heard along with the pattering of raindrops on the windows.

“Hey lovey, didn't hear you come in. You okay?” Amber frowned, her moist thumb rubbed against the middle of his forehead, where his eyebrows dipped in a frown. “Tough day?”

Terry hummed, “Hmm, nah not really.” A simple answer, short and curt but Amber knew there was more to his sour mood. “Is this about Mike's birthday?” She asked softly, not wanting to add tension.

Terry's late cousin, Mike's, birthday was coming soon. His death still cause tremor in Terry's heart, despite it being years ago. While he tried to forget of everything that came with Mike’s death and Shelby Springs, that year will forever live in him rent free.

Terry simply nodded his head, exhaling a loud breath while his fingers thread through her braids and graze across her scalp. “Yeah, I’ma be okay though. Don't worry ‘bout me baby. How was your day?”

Amber smiled somberly, he wasn't okay but she wouldn't push him to talk about it. Amber got out of the tub, dried her body, and wrapped her body up with a robe. “It was… something. I have to leave for Singapore in a few days.”

“You have to go alone? I can pack up and leave with y-” Terry began before Amber interrupted him with a laugh.

“No baby, that's okay. You need to stay here and work, business seem to be booming lately.” She suggested before standing on the tip of her toes, leaving a amorous kiss on his lips.

Terry exhaled in rejection, scratched the back of his neck before he followed her to their bedroom. “Guess I'll have to cancel game night with the guys.”

“Uh-Uh. There is no need to do that lovey. Just get someone else to go with you.”

Terry lost concentration for a bit, watching her as she smeared lotion on the smooth of her legs, the robe slipped off her shoulder revealing precise ink work across her collarbone.

“Yeah, but I wanted my woman to go with me. I missed you, baby. Shit, I still do.”

Amber rolled her eyes playfully with a knowing smile. Terry had always been an affectionate person, despite his broody demeanour and the way he always seemed to be mean-mugging people, he had not once hid his affections from Amber. It made her heart soar time and time again.

“I know, and I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you when I get back.” She whispered, taking slow and calculated steps towards him. “But right now… I kinda want you to put me to sleep.”

Terry bit his bottom lip at that, his eyes glistened with a shine that Amber always brought to him. “Shit, don't gotta tell me twice, girl. Come here.”

Terry ended up going to the game night alone, and unfortunately for him, he was stuck as a third wheel. Rome cancelled at the last minute, so it was just him, Yosohn and his girlfriend, Isla.

The three opted for something simple, and while Terry was bored out of his mind, bowling seemed to keep him from mugging Yosohn and his girl from their excessive PDA.

He missed Amber, it's been two days since she left for Singapore and he already felt screws loosening in his head. “We about to play or not?” He snapped at the couple, causing infectious giggles to spur from Isla's chest as she detached her lips from Yosohn's.

“Damn let's get started ‘fore this man throw a ball at us.” Yosohn joked, which only fueled the shorter woman's laughter. Terry smacked his lips as they all got started on the game.

The games were tense as Terry and Yosohn played against one another. The bowling rank was full now, almost every single alley was taken with players. Terry was beginning to get a little overstimulated by the few drinks, loud music, the flashing of bright neon led lights and the game.

In dire need of a break, Terry called recess and went to the bathroom to recharge. The bathroom was minimalistic, rather boring. But hey, it was just a bathroom and the bowling alley was quite an old establishment.

He appreciated the soft scent of bleach and soap, the mirrors were spotless and the floors squeaked with every step he took. Terry stood by the sinks, watching his reflection in the mirror before splashing cold water on his face to get him out of his funk. Usually by now, he would have told Amber that his social battery was running low and he just wanted to lay up under her for the rest of the night. But she wasn't here with him, and going home was not an option for Terry because she wasn't there either.

Reluctant to rejoin the couple, Terry slowly stepped out of the bathroom, eyes on the ground before a nostalgic fragrance of jasmine and honey, and maybe a small hint of… he couldn't really put his finger on the last scent, it didn't matter though, because what brought a smile to his face was an all too familiar person seemed to be in his presence, for the first time in weeks.

“Syrae?”

Terry did opt for finding out, would be hard not to when she enticed him in the way that she did. Must have been that stripper shit she learned at the club.

“I'm telling you, I would've made an amazing politician.” Terry laughs, staring at the dark-skinned beauty with a smile from across the table of a cheap, local diner.

Stark colours of red, yellow and orange painted the walls, tables and booths as Syrae sipped on her vanilla Milkshake. “I just don't see it. You look like you don't got the time for bullshit.” Syrae shrugged her shoulders.

“I don't, but I love being dependable and inventive. And politics seems to be the perfect place to do that. ‘Specially with how shit be going down here.”

He seemed ambitious, versatile too. Syrae loved that about anyone, but knowing that Terry was all this made it harder for her to keep her wandering thoughts at bay. “Hmm, somethin’ tell me owning a workshop wasn't in your books?”

A steady observation, Terry didn't talk about his shop like he spoke about his past ventures. The light in his eyes seemed to dim only slightly and Syrae was not sure if it was the journey to how he got here… or the destination that had him frustrated.

“That somethin’ might be right.”

Syrae hummed at his short response, she could read a room, but Terry did not seem to want to be read at the moment. Perhaps they could leave that for another time.

“Well I know how that feels.” Syrae sighed before she raised her half-empty glass. “What's life without a little fuck ups?”

Terry laughed at that, appreciating the deflection a little like she appreciated the sound of her melodic voice, or the sight of her smile. “Not a damn thing, Indigo.”

“Syrae.’ she interrupted with a small scrunch of her nose. “My real name’s Syrae.”

It suited her, much more than the name Indigo and it seemed to piece her together. “Hmm, nice to meet you. Syrae.”

“I'm sure it is.” and so the banter continues.

“Terry, I'm convinced you followin’ me now.” The shorter woman crossed her arms over her chest. She had jeans that fit just right, before flaring wide below her knees. A sage green dress, which stopped mid-thigh and was decorated with some glitter. There was a knot tied around her neck from the dress, covered by the jacket draped over her shoulder.

It was a simple outfit, so so simple. But Terry couldn't seem to understand why he felt butterflies breaking pit of their cacoons at the way she looked. Maybe it was the glasses on her face, he always had a thing for women in glasses. Or maybe the soft of her features, plush lips, thick brows. Fuck, it could've been the accent, one that did nothing to soothe the resolute thumping of his heart.

“Cockiness gets you nowhere Rae.” Syrae rolled her eyes at that, although her heart galloped at the nickname. Since finding out her real name, he has been calling her that freely and she would not be one to stop him, it sounded good coming from him.

“But nah, I'm kinda stuck third-wheeling my friends.”

Syrae winced, “Same here, actually.”

“But wait I got a reason to be alone, you don't. Where your lady at?” She asked curiously, although the mention of Terry's wife felt like a small slice to her gums, a feeling she quickly blinked away.

“Went away for work, Singapore.” Terry answered proudly. Amber was such a hard worker and she deserved every single petal on the flowers she received. “Who got you third-wheeling though?”

“My friend, Broisa and her… partner?” Syrae hesitated, not even sure if Gage was Broisa's boyfriend. Terry picked up the hesitation and laughed in understanding.

For a while he stood silent, eyes darting from her face to the floor then back to her face. Something about her features made it too hard for Terry to stare too long, yet it seemed like his brain pined for another look at her. Syrae had her natural hair out this time, perfectly coiled in a way that they bounced everytime she moved. Terry couldn't help but wonder just how long she spent on her hair every day. Was it hours and hours on end, or had she gotten so used to the routine it was sort of a habit to her? Did she need help? What products did she use?

“Well, you could join me… and my friends.” He began, pointing behind him, where Yosohn and Isla stood. “If you want.”

Syrae raised a brow, took a peak around Terry at his friends in question. “Hmm, if I want…” A mumbled retort. Syrae couldn't find a reason to decline, a reason she was so desperate to find because being near Terry just felt like torture at times. The man was naturally intense, and even without trying, everything he did was just inherently seductive, it made her want to lose all sense of her morale and give into whatever the stupid dragonflies in her stomach told her.

“That don't sound like too bad of an idea, I just gotta let me friend know though.” She explained, eyes trailing back to Terry's.

“You do what you gotta do, I'll be right over there.” Syrae nodded at his response, turned slowly and walked to where Broisa and Gage sat lip-locked, engaged deeply in each other than getting their money's worth.

Syrae walked meticulously to Terry's booth, an extra set of footsteps rushing behind her, wanting to so desperately know what the man who constantly occupied Syrae’s mind and conversation looked like.

So it happened that Broisa couldn't keep her mouth shut and yapped away Syrae's business to Gage. Now Gage was into Syrae’s tea and just as invested as the woman at his side. Syrae warned them both to not do anything that would compromise her's and Terry's friendship, or put them in an uncomfortable position.

“Hey, Terry. I'm back.” She announced. She noticed how the other two turned to her with brows raised and backs straightened. They were alert, something she couldn't necessarily fault as she was a random person to them, one who came with two more people towing behind her, and Broisa and Gage didn't look like the friendliest batch of people.

“My friends decided to come along, hope y'all don't mind an extra triplet.” She smiled nervously, watching as Gage protectively stared down the other three which were seated. “Yeah, hope y'all don't mind.” Gage couldn't stop himself from repeating, trying to seem intimidating.

Syrae couldn't help but to slightly roll her eyes, being used to Gage's antics by now, she knew it was only a matter of time until he started some shit like this, which she found hilarious because he was much smaller than the two.men he was trying to intimidate.

While Yosohn was a little lanky, he had Gage beat by height. Terry… well, Everything about Terry was big, surely a man that size should be able to knock some sense into people?

“Gage, hush.” Broisa reprimanded him, before smiling over at Terry, a little bunch of constellations in her eyes as she began to understand perfectly well why he insisted on his career at being an eight-track athlete in Syrae's head. “We hope we're not intrudin’?” Broisa continued, her smile getting a little too wide to keep at bay.

“Don't worry bout it. Isla, Sohn. This is Syrae, Broisa and… Gage?” Terry introduced before he turned to Syrae. “This Yosohn and his girlfriend, Isla.”

It was only then that Yosohn's eyes widen slightly in realisation. He connected Syrae to the club after a while. Yosohn has never seen Syrae up close, only ever seen her on stage, he hasn't really gotten the opportunity to see distinct features. Yet all this was masked by confusion, he didn't understand why Terry would invite Syrae here, a stripper who gave him a private dance. There couldn't be any good that came from this.

“Hey, nice to meet y'all.” Isla smiles, relaxing a bit at knowing that Terry knows them, well one-third at least. Syrae and Broisa return the sentiments, smiling awkwardly as Yosohn and Terry stare Gage down, the smaller man still not backing down.

Terry shook his head, then let out a small chuckle before directing the two women to take a seat in the booth.

After a few drinks, the tension was long forgotten and the group of six laughed at anything and everything. Yosohn had fallen a total of four times trying to throw a bowling ball, and that alone still had Syrae clutching her stomach.

Okay, so maybe they had more than a few drinks. And that meant that Terry and Syrae shared more than a few lingering stares, which luckily, nobody was sober enough to notice… at least they thought.

“I thought games weren't your thing.” Terry begins unsolicited conversation, focused intently on how Syrae swirled her straw in a tall glass of a purple glittery drink. A Nebula Blast she said it was. One fuckery of a drink because just like it's name, she began seeing galaxies in Terry’s eyes. A gazillion of shooting stars just waiting to make her dreams come true.

“They not.” She shrugs, a small smile on her lips before she wrapped her lips around her straw, Terry following the movement intently, inviting him to lick his own. “But free food and drinks are, and I needed this time out.”

“And why's that?.” His eyes didn't move from her mouth, especially not when her tongue peaked to catch the slight residue on her tinted lips. The muscle left a small trail of glitter and her full lips couldn't have looked any more enticing.

“I just wrote my last exam, and submitted my assignment. Kinda going through college burnout. Needed this real bad.” She lifted her half-full glass, the alcohol having already been too much for her that it forced her to sip much slower. How much Vodka did they put in this?

“Hmm, bet you did. You nervous ‘bout results?” Terry asked, taking a swing of his own rum and coke, a bad idea for someone as lightweight as Terry.

Syrae shook her head slowly, “Not really. I worked my ass off for these exams. But I'm still a little shaky… don't know ‘bout nervous though.”

Syrae yapped away about each exam she wrote, the difficulty of each and how she felt after writing. Terry listened, nodding along with a few interjections here and there.

It wasn't long until the other four felt a little bored at the bowling alley. Broisa wanted to go somewhere a little less… family friendly so she could get wasted and act accordingly with no children around.

Claiming that there was a nightclub not too far from the bowling alley, Broisa convinced everyone else to walk together instead of catching different rides to a place that's less than thirty minutes away.

Syrae was thankful of the recommendation, after downing the rest of the toxic drink, she had started feeling a little dizzy, and the cool night breezes did enough to calm her down and gather her breathing, temporarily ceasing the churning in her stomach.

But she was extra conscious of the fact that Terry was right next to her as they walked down the sidewalk, the other four goofing off further away in front of them. They managed to hold conversation, as always, a little sprinkle of banter did just the job in being confused as flirtation in Syrae's drunken state.

She kept up though, barely crossing another line. They were merely grazing it out of anticipation. By the time they made it to the club, Syrae had calmed down a tad bit. Terry, on the other hand, was still feeling the effects of the three glasses of rum, because now floating notes of music morphed into bright orange monarchs. They fluttered and diffused into his stomach, creating a surge of warmth when he felt the cool skin of her back as he led her through the entrance of the club.

It was loud, so loud that Terry and Syrae were beginning to question if they should have agreed on coming here. Broisa immediately enjoyed the vibe and hopped to the dance floor with Gage. Syrae and Terry followed Yosohn and Isla to the bar.

Syrae orders a water for Terry and herself, makes him drink as she remembered that he couldn't hold his liquor. Consciously, Syrae knew that a night out with Terry while being inebriated couldn't have been a good idea. Being out with Terry in such a casual setting, a comfortable one at that, was a bad idea in general.

It didn't take long for everything to catch up with Syrae, and then suddenly her need for fresh air was too palpable to be ignored. She excuses herself from the three friends, claiming she was just going outside for a while.

Now stood against a wall at the back of her nightclub. An unlit blunt in one hand and a hot pink lighter in the other. She stared at the ground mindlessly, periodically flicking her lighter. Maybe she should just cut off this budding friendship with Terry, there was no way he didn't feel how she did, which made it worse because…Terry was married. Fuck he was married and the thought along brought a pissing migraine to her head.

The music echoes perfectly from the club, only mere vibrations could be below her feet, which was long ridden of her heels. They sat comfortable on the floor next to her feet. Syrae exhaled loudly before placing the tip of her blunt in her lips before lifting her hands on the other end, flicking the spark wheel a number of times waiting for a flame.

Until the sudden sound of the back door opening suddenly, then out came a Terrence Richmond with his natural mean mug on his face. Syrae straightened off the wall abruptly, whipping the blunt off her lips. “Fuck, Terry. What the hell?” She muttered, exhaling a sigh of relief.

“You were out here for too long, thought somebody took you.” He explained, stepping a few steps to close, she could tell by how the hint of old wood and cocoa butter invaded her nose. “I'm good, Soldier.” She laughed softly, putting the blunt back in her bag.

Terry merely hummed. He got a few more drinks, in an attempt to wash away the thoughts of Syrae and all the feelings she brought. She weighed on his head heavily and intoxicatingly. Kind of like the alcohol did. “Wanted to see that for myself.”

Syrae hummed, looking up at his eyes. She shouldn't have, but she did, and now she couldn't look away. She couldn't help her wandering eyes. How they traced the intentional streaks of each contour on his face, the thickness of his neck, broad shoulders, one's she'd always thought would be a perfect place for her legs. Thighs or calves, it didn't matter.

He was wearing a black turtleneck, one that hugged his body in ways that had Syrae imagining raking her nails across his skin. His jeans were a bit loose, but when he sat or flexed just enough, the thickness of his thighs could not be hidden from the stretch.

“Why you got your shoes off? There's broken bottles down here, Rae.” Terry frowned at that realisation. Instinctively, he stepped even closer. Terry crouched on his feet and tapped three fingers on one of Syrae's ankles, coaxing her to lift her foot. “Terry, my feet fine. Ain't no need to do-” She was interrupted by a sigh.

Terry looked up from his crouched position, fingers just barely grazing the smooth skin above her ankle. His face remained neutral, as if he were telling her he wasn't taking no for an answer. Syrae let out a sigh of her own, her shoulders sagged and she lulled her head to the side before raising her foot.

Terry lifted it slightly higher, causing her to push the middle of her dress downward, as to not expose herself. He gently inspected the underside of her foot, swiping away the small rocks and pebbles indented in her heels.

He does the same for the other foot, however this time, it was much slower, much more intentional. That much was obvious by how Terry kept his slightly hooded eyes on her eyes, while massaging away at her heels. “Terry.” Syrae warned softly, her lips feeling a bit more dry than earlier and suddenly, she saw small dots of sparkly gas floating around her.

“Hmm?” He wasn't listening. His hand travelled lightly up her legs as did his gaze. He slowly raised from his crouched position the moment. Syrae's leg rested on his hip as his large hand held her leg up. “Terry.”

Syrae attempted at warning again, this time a little louder. Her hand reached for his, attempting to push it away from her burning skin, yet her fingers worked their way underneath the hem of his sleeves. Stiletto nails grazing his skin when Terry stepped further between her legs. “Syrae.”

She held in a whimper, the other hand that rested on his shoulder was supposed to push his body away, instead, it gripped at the defined muscle and slowly travelled to the curve of his neck. “Terrence Richmond.” Syrae moaned, in sheer desperation, because at least one of them had to have control, and surely wouldn't be Syrae. “I'm here.” He retorted, their faces so close he can taste the glitter and stars from the Nebula Blast on her breath. He just needed to kiss her, one kiss. Then he would see a supernova.

She shook her head, their noses budging at the movement. “Uh uh. We not ‘sposed to be doin’ this, Terry.” She whispered against his lips. Terry only nodded his head, managed to hold off from swallowing her gasp when she felt his obvious excitement against her ruined panties.

“You stoppin’ me?” A question that held so much power, because was she stopping him? Did she have the willpower to stop any of this? Syrae began questioning herself, trying to find resolute… until Terry angled his hips so perfectly, then ground them right against Syrae's pooling heat. Her mouth fell open and her eyebrows pinched between her forehead. “Hmm, baby? You gonna stop this?”

She should, she really really should. Because Terry could fuck her life all the way up, he already was and he's barely done anything. “Fuhh.” Her words fell short when she felt his pulsating bulge grind mind-numbing flutters to her swelling bud. “Hmm, look at m- Syrae. Look at me. You gon’ st-”

He was talking too much. Syrae held the back of his neck and pulled his lips onto his. And fuck if her heartbeat didn't go calm. She felt herself sag against him.

It took a while for them to register their affection. But when Terry reeled in, he kissed back, their heads moving leisurely in opposite directions as their minds took the lead. Syrae heard pops in her ears, mostly from the abuse of pressure Terry offered between her legs.

His hips moved so slowly, it's as if he was trying to serenade a confession of love from her heart straight through her body and out her pussy with her drowning essence. And she would tell him a million times, how it was his.

Terry moans against the kiss, the monarchs in his stomach cease the fluttering, as did the dragonflies in Syrae's. As if they've kissed noses, called a truce. Everything felt like an end of soul searching, like the two haven't reached true content in life until that very moment.

Syrae felt familiar and foreign all at once. But above all else, she felt like serenity. The kiss brought nothing but tranquillity and a surge of need. Terry wasn't sure if he particularly enjoyed the taste of Nebula Blast and glitter on her lips or the small hint of the cherry candy that Syrae always said she loved. It didn't matter because it was Syrae.

But Terry was wrong about one thing. Syrae's kisses didn't make him see a supernova. They made him see fucking galaxies.

A/N: I did that??? I did that for real? I'm so proud of this part, although it seemed like there's a lot going on, it's my favourite because it highlights a theme I've been wanting to include. If you haven't noticed, it's astronomy! Not the entire concept perse, but it's a lot of stars going on.

There's was a very, very subtle hint at how the story's gonna end in the chapter. It's so miniscule I doubt anyone will notice it lol. This song is what inspired me to write, because I was a little blocked chilee

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@blyffe @peachbutterfly-blog @browngirldominion @blackmoonchilee

Comment if you'd like to be tagged. Please like it if you love it lol. Comments and reblogs are deeply encouraged and appreciated, it what motivates me to write more.

#Spotify #terry richmond #aaron pierre #terry richmond fanfiction #terry richmond x oc #terry richmond x black oc #black female oc #black women #black!fem!oc #terry richmond fic #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black!character #zeekawrites #terry richmond got me in a choke hold

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