yaachtynoboat711

[yaachtynoboat711]

Bitch?! (Lovingly) THIS WHAT TYPE TIME YOU ON?!

My Funny Valentine

Valentine's Treat #2

*Can be read independent of 'Twas the Night*

Pairing: 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. FLUFF, SMUT. Cursing, teasing, PIV, oral (male and female receiving), fingering (female receiving), hand job (male receiving), dirty talk, overly romantic fluff, minor OC lore (sorry!) Use of pet name. Mentions of the n-word, all consensual. Bad jokes, a different side to Terry. Sorry if I missed some. (Some meta jokes and winks and self-indulgent asf) Inaccurate Atlanta descriptions, I'm very sorry, I'm loopy.

Summary: You weren’t sure if this thing with Terry could survive outside of the cabin. But Terry lures you to Atlanta for a hot, steamy getaway this Valentine’s weekend. Once you join him, he takes you on the most romantic date you’ve ever been on and delivers on every single promise he made.

Word Count: 11,720k

'Twas the Night | AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. I love this Reader and Terry SOOOO bad. I didn't know if I could do a follow up justice but I love when I prove myself wrong. Lemme go hose myself down. Happy Valentine's Day, my love! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

“Girl, what the hell got into you in that damn cabin?!” Your editor, Vanessa, screamed in your ear as you entered the swanky Atlanta hotel. You giggled and looked around at the subtle cream and black decor that gave it an extra fancy flair. Your duffel bag and suitcase trailed behind you as you dragged it.

This is noice, you thought to yourself. 

“Whatever do you mean?” You asked innocently, preening at the praise. It was rare that you patted yourself on the back, but when you did, you really soaked it in. 

“Make Me Howl is gonna put you up for another Write On, Black Girl award,” she pressed on.

“No way!” You screamed and then winced as a hotel guest sitting in the waiting area gave you a look. You mouthed an apology to him and strolled, heading past the receptionist desk towards the shiny silver elevators. The rug underfoot was soft, full of swirling calming blues.

You were too busy marveling at the decorative elevator buttons to remember to push the button. Another guest, a woman dressed way too light for an Atlanta winter, sniffed as she pushed the button for the next car.

“I’ve had to put this shit down multiple times! Whoever your freaky frog ass found, you ask him if he has a brother,” Vanessa said.

You laughed and let yourself fill up with absolute joy. Make Me Howl was one of the riskiest books you’d ever written. It was the first time in a long time that you made the characters personal. Wesley and Gabrielle had your whole heart.

“I already checked and he does not,” you sang, perhaps a little too smugly. You liked being the only one to have a piece of Terry, no matter the relation. Thinking of that man had your clit jumping.

Down girl, not yet! You shifted from foot to foot, filled with anxious energy. That man, that man…

“Heifer. Fine. But start your prep now, you are going to be busy on this one,” Vanessa said and signed off with you.

You shifted in a tiny dance and imagined what the future had in store. The book signings and fan events, conventions, and panels. Public speaking gave you hives. But you could talk about books any day, any week. 

Terry had already sent you details about the floor and you had been fantasizing about it all day long. What were you going to find? Rose petals everywhere? Enough candles to set the mood but not risk any fires? Heart shaped balloons? 

The elevator softly dinged as it arrived, interrupting your daydreaming. The doors opened and let the previous passengers off. You got on and rolled your suitcase behind you. The other lady got on as well and the doors closed. 

Okay, okay, you were getting ahead of yourself. But fuck! You couldn’t remember the last time you had Valentine’s Day plans. When you started your sex-only rule, you lost all hope of ever having a romantic getaway. 

Terry dashed all of those plans, promising to snap up every single holiday you wanted to celebrate. Do it Deadpool style and fuck like bunny rabbits. You had howled when he said that, not taking him seriously enough at the time. 

People would say anything while lost to the sauce, bumping uglies, playing hide the sausage. You snorted to yourself, laughing at your jokes. The other lady glanced at you and you turned your head towards the passing view.

The elevator was clear, showing the setting sun over the Atlanta skyline. The floors passed by with a ticking in the top right corner of the car. You tried to ground yourself with things you could see and hear.

But none of it worked. You were racing towards that dangerous man Terry Richmond and your mind was already scrambled. Already running away with you with scenario after scenario. Heart swelling as if…

You had a crush. 

The realization made you widen your eyes briefly, no longer seeing the cityscape and the lights winking on. 

Holy gee. You had an entire crush at your big age. Where this man was just…straight from the pages of a book. He tap danced on your last fucking nerve, true, but he also made you laugh. Made you smile. Had you daydreaming about past conversations and past rolls in the bed. His teasing and his laughing. You needed to see that shy, rare smile that absolutely transformed his face.

You had a fucking crush on Terry Richmond. The toe-curling, leg-popping, hair-twisting, butterfly-flapping kind of fever that consumed your thoughts and dreams. It had been far, far too long since you had a crush. 

The elevator stopped on the lady’s floor and she stepped out. You shot her a smug look, happy that your room was higher than hers. It was petty, but you didn’t like mean girls. 

The elevator ascended two more floors before opening out onto the twentieth floor. You stepped out and went right, hunting for the correct door. Your nerves tingled the closer you approached, anticipation like electricity shooting through your veins. 

Finding the door, you stopped and made yourself presentable. You smoothed down your sexy wine colored dress and smoothed down your braids tucked into a high bun. You took a deep breath and then knocked.

It was kind of dirty standing outside a man’s hotel room. Even if said man got it for the both of you for a cutesy getaway. The salacious nature of it only increased your excitement.

A beat later, Terry opened the door and your heart damn near stopped. He wore a long-sleeved navy sweater with a silver chain around his neck. The cut of the sweater was practically painted on his massive arms and it tapered at the waist. He wore dark jeans tucked into chocolate brown boots and you reluctantly dragged your eyes up to his face.

He had a face you just wanted to sit on. And cry. 

He had smooth tanned skin that looked burnished in the low lighting from the room. His goatee was freshly cut, a neat trim so at odds with the mountain man you got to know over your winter retreat. His hair was much neater, but he kept some bit of curls and you bit your lip. 

This man was designed to kill you. He was your own personal death that you welcomed with open arms. And open legs. 

“I knew I looked good,” Terry said.

“Shut up! I’m staring at that booger up your nose,” you said, quickly snapping from your thoughts. 

“The lies yo ass tell,” he said and sighed, juicy pink lips twitching with a repressed smile. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said slowly, raking his eyes all over you in much the same way you did him. It was a physical thing, awakening areas of your body that felt neglected suddenly. Like it, too, missed the weight of his hands on your ass or touch of lips to yours.

You giggled as you waved your hand. “Lookin’ damn fine yourself. You gon’ leave me out here all night?” You asked.

“I should. Chipmunks might have fun with all these nook and cranies,” he said and waved his long fingers around.. He then crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed your eyes. 

“I’m surprised your big ass can fit in this hotel. Don’t it feel like a dollhouse?” You asked.

His mouth dropped open comically and you giggled. You pushed at him, wanting to see the surprise he so obviously had behind him. He chuckled and moved out of the way finally. 

Beyond him, the lights were dimmed low in the living room. The furniture was traditional, plump cushions and high backs. The glass oval coffee table was opaque, giving it a slight blue shine. 

You held your breath as you went further, looking around and…not seeing anything. No candles…no flowers…no balloons…you’d even take a plant at this point. You hummed as you looked around, pretending to check out the space when really you were looking for the good stuff. 

Maybe he just wasn’t the overly mushy type? You could work with that…you guessed. There was no way you would plan a getaway and not make a teensy goofy and cheesy. 

Beyond the living room, there was a bedroom with a king sized bed and fluffy white covers. The nightstands held little decoration other than an alarm clock and a lamp. The TV mounted on the wall was a lot smaller than the one in the living room but you weren’t going to turn it on anyway. 

The bathroom was spacious with a large jacuzzi tub that made you want to sink in right this second. It smelled heavenly so you looked for a little plug-in or something. It was plugged in by the sink, disguised as a light fixture. The liquid inside was light colored, so it must be vanilla you were smelling. 

You walked back into the living room to see Terry standing in the threshold with his hands behind his back. 

“You’re not slick,” he said with a tilt of his lips. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, stopping nearby. You placed your hand on the bar top and leaned, giving him an innocent smile. 

“You were expecting something else, weren’t you?” He asked. 

You pinched your lips but you opted for honesty. “You can’t read my mind,” you said and sucked your teeth. 

He chuckled and held out his hand for you to take. You looked at it and pretended to hesitate. When his face dropped, you giggled and took his hand. He pulled you closer until you were nearly chest to chest, your dress brushing against his soft sweater. 

He pulled his other hand from around his back and produced a single rose. He tapped it against your nose and brushed it against your cheek. It tingled as he passed the rose over your chin and your pussy throbbed.

How could he make the most innocent things seem downright filthy? 

You licked your lips and he brought the rose back to your lips as if he wanted to catch your tongue. You smiled, falling too hard and too fast for this man. Your infatuation bubbled beneath your skin, crushing your insides and yet you felt like a squishy marshmallow. 

“I know you were expecting the whole nine yards. But I figured you’d want to check the room first. Let me know what I missed,” he said, his deep voice echoing against your chest. 

“You didn’t…” You said, shaking your head. 

Terry only gave you a puppy-eyed look, bringing the rose down your neck. Your lips parted with a quiet sigh, loving the velvety feel on your exposed skin. 

“Terry, my triggers are not your responsibility,” you said. There was no way to catch your breath around this man. He stole every last bit of it. 

“That’s why I arrived first,” he said and smirked. 

You sighed and shook your head. You had to look away. You had to rest your eyes. It wasn’t fair to stare into the face of such beauty for long. “Terry, if this is gonna work…”

“When this works,” Terry corrected.

You pinched your lips. “This works if you let me worry about my quirks,” you said.

“They’re not quirks. They’re what makes you you,” he said and tapped the rose against your nose. You narrowed your eyes but there was no budging with him. He matched you stare for stare, even sinking down to your level.

“You get on my damn nerves,” you said. He smirked and leaned forward for a kiss. You turned your head at the last minute, making him kiss your cheek. 

He playfully growled and moved to quickly kiss you on the lips. “You like it,” he said, pitching his voice deeper still.

Lord help, you were going to have to change your panties by the end of this damn night. Fuck the flowers, chocolates, song, and dance. You wanted to drag him to that bedroom and not come up for air all weekend. 

Manners matter.

Terry winked at you and then leaned back. “C’mon, before we’re late,” he said. 

Well. He already did it. You handed him your jacket as you had no desire to sweat so early in the night. You leaned down and opened the front pocket to your duffel bag, pulling out a pair of gloves and a blacklight. 

You began in the small foyer, flashing the light over every available surface. In about ten minutes, you scanned the place to the best of your ability. “It’s clean. Like really clean,” you shook your head. It was rare to find a hotel or Air B&B that was clean to begin with. Plus your standards were higher than most. 

Your anxiety reduced fraction by fraction knowing the place was safe. There were still some spots, but it was so tiny it hardly counted. You rejoined Terry in the living room and peeled off your gloves. “Terry,” you sighed.

Terry mimicked your tone and said your name. You rolled your eyes. “All I did was ask the crew to clean extra well. The hotel is rated high in hygiene,” he said.

You stepped forward and hugged him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He was so damn cute you could hardly stand it. This man…this man…

You leaned back and put your chin on his hard chest, grinning ear to ear. He grinned back and leaned forward for a quick kiss. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he said.

“You already said that, mister,” you said.

Terry chuckled and pressed his soft lips to your forehead, the simple gesture making you feel small and protected. You inwardly squealed with pleasure and flexed your toes in your shoes. 

“You really not gon’ tell me anything else about tonight?” You asked. Sighing, you stepped away and grabbed a clutch from your duffel bag, already loaded with your essentials. You put your jacket back on, patting down your braids to make sure it was still in place.

Terry handed you the flower and then grabbed a long black coat from the closet and put it on. He escorted you out of the door and the lock clicked in place after it closed. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. 

You sighed. It had been an…interesting conversation when Terry said he wanted to surprise you for Valentine’s Day weekend. You liked surprises fine…as long as you knew when and where it was coming from. 

No such luck. No amount of cajoling, begging, or saucy teases over Facetime made Terry give up the goods about tonight’s festivities. You had to remember that it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but you were still nervous as Terry escorted you all the way to the parking garage.

He had opted for a smaller rental, a truck still large enough to fit him but at least it fit in the parking space. You doubted his monster mountain truck would hack it here. He still had to help you climb in, but you didn’t mind his hands lingering one bit. He handed you the rose and you held it tenderly.

He climbed in as well and soon you were off down the busy Atlanta streets. Darkened clouds filled the sky and you watched the signs go by, trying to guess where this date started.

He chuckled from the driver’s seat. “You’re not going to guess,” he said. “So park your cute ass in the seat and talk to me. Tell me about your day.”

You growled playfully but did as you were told. Only because if there was ever an accident, you wanted the highest chance of survival. So you leaned back and watched him drive, keeping a healthy eye on the road, as you told him about your day. You talked about the flight and every crazy outfit you saw in the airport. 

You told him about what Vanessa gushed about your book and he cheered you on, telling you that this was a double celebration then. You told him he didn’t have to, but in true Terry fashion, he just smirked and winked at you. “‘No’ don’t work on me, chipmunk,” he said.

You sighed, clenching your thighs together. Terry was the king of consent but it was hard to tell him different in everyday conversation. If you marveled at something in the store, he pulled it into the cart anyway, despite your protests. He had you second guessing making a tiny peep about anything. He was such a man. Someone you were willing to follow. 

“You’re impossible!” You said.

Conversation flowed easily and before long, Terry pulled into a bustling parking lot. “The aquarium?” You screamed, reading the bright bold letters on the front of the building. 

Terry chuckled. “Go on tell me I did good,” he said.

You sucked your teeth. “That remains to be seen,” you said. 

Terry poked your thigh while he maneuvered through the parking lot for a space to fit the rental. You watched as he tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel, admiring his large hands. Capable of chopping wood and wringing pleasure from you. 

You admired his side profile, jawline lethal as he got in line behind a Jeep. People walked in between cars, making the crawl towards a space seem even longer. 

Terry found a spot and then let you out of the car, letting you slide down the front of his body. His hands lingered at the small of your back. “You be careful, Mr. Richmond,” you said, your voice sultry and full of dark promises. 

“You behave tonight,” he ordered. 

Making it inside the aquarium, it had been decorated to fit the Valentine’s Day theme. There were donation boxes spread throughout the lobby while couples of all variations walked through towards the first exhibit. 

Terry already had your tickets and he gave them over to the receptionist. He took your jacket and held it while you walked around. For the better part of the evening, you went through most of the aquarium, lighting up at all the different fishes and marine animals. You passed the rose between each other, no rhyme or reason to the order. 

You asked each other questions, getting deeper into each other’s business. In all your romping around and quick bites to eat, most of your conversations were filthy pillow talk or harmless. It was a different environment where you could both let your guard down and just learn.

Terry had lived a full life, explaining all about how he got into martial arts. It was rare to meet a man so physical, exuding raw masculinity in every fiber of his being. This was who those dude-bro podcasts thought they were.

Posters were strategically placed with helpful photo op ideas, facts on the exhibits, or love stories from patrons who submitted. Terry held your hand throughout the whole thing while you talked and marveled.

You went through the long, wrap-around tunnel where it made you feel like you were close to the ocean but blissfully safe and dry. It irritated a few of your triggers, your irrational mind offering unhelpful intrusive thoughts about the glass breaking and the tunnel flooding.

“Don’t worry. Chipmunks can swim,” he said. 

You squeaked and squeezed his arm. He stole the rose from you and offered to take a picture with you. “Are you sure?” You asked. 

In the short amount of time you’d known him, it was glaringly obvious that Terry was a bit of an old man when it came to technology. He didn’t like taking many pictures despite looking how he does, and he preferred to stay in the real world. 

He barely had social media and used it to check in on his younger cousins. He was behind at least a generation or two when it came to cell phones, firmly believing that if it wasn’t broken, there was no need to upgrade. 

You teased him endlessly about it. Him being the one to offer, ugh, your heart pooped its pants. You took out your phone and took a couple of pictures, trying to angle it to get the tunnel in it. 

Your poor arm couldn’t include Terry’s big ass so he grabbed the phone and found an angle that was perfect for you both. “Excuse me, would you like me to take your picture?” An aquarium employee with short purple hair asked you. You smiled at the young man and nodded.

He let a few people pass through the tunnel before stepping back and getting a few pictures of you and Terry on your first Valentine’s Day together. You secretly hoped that it was the first of many, many Valentine’s where you got to call him yours.

Terry’s lips found your temple and you turned to him, getting lost in the depths of his eyes. The surrounding ocean blue only made the gray in his eyes stand out more, drawing you deeper and deeper into them. 

The staff member cleared his throat politely and you snapped out of it, cheeks on fire. You grabbed your phone and thanked him, moving on down the tunnel. You went through the pictures, marveling at the man’s photography skills. 

The last one. The last one you tilted so Terry could see. His eyes softened and a smirk curved his beautiful lips. “Send that to me,” he said.

You grinned as you sent it to his phone and then took the rose from him. You tapped it against his wide nose and he smirked at you. You looked back at the cute photo. The man managed to catch you looking at Terry and you had picture evidence of how fast Terry reeled you in.

It should be scary. It should send you running for the hills, alarms blaring, bells ringing, sirens blasting. But it was more like floating down a calm lake, hot sun on your brown skin. Perhaps it was too easy with him.

Yet it only made you snuggle into his side more. Wrap your hand around his arm and follow as he led you around the aquarium, talking about his favorite animals. 

You followed the signs towards the Beluga whales, watching as they swam and played with the little kids who jumped in place and shrieked with laughter. 

Your stomach grumbled, loudly, while you were in the middle of explaining why you loved your favorite marine animal. Terry’s slow smirk felt like a pot shot all its own. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

“No,” you said and your voice climbed with your lie. 

“Pretty sure I heard something,” he said. 

“Pretty sure you didn’t,” you said and shrugged. 

His smirk found a permanent spot on his lips as he pulled you closer. “If you hungry, just say that,” he said.

“I know not what you speak,” you said and shook your head. Your tummy chose to grumble again and you sighed. “Traitor.”

Terry chuckled. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. He grabbed your hand and then walked towards the front, dragging your reluctant body from the aquarium. 

You didn't want to leave. You wanted to stay and run through the exhibits one more time. There were so many different types of fishes and animals, surely you hadn't seen all of them. And you just wanted to secretly capture more candid pictures of Terry reading all the placards.

“This is hands down one of the most romantic nights I’ve ever had, Terry. This…you’re giving every man out there a bad rep,” you said.

“Good. Sometimes you gotta pop out and show niggas,” he said. 

You howled with laughter, shoulder bumping into him as you walked. He kept you laughing the entire way to the front and out into the freezing night air. Clouds of your breath escaped your lips and your legs turned icy.

Steam blew from Terry’s nose, temporarily making him look like a predator in a jungle somewhere. Your belly flipped, reminding you that you were very much a girl and very much attracted to that hunk of meat. 

Terry walked with you to his car and let you in the passenger seat. He climbed in and started the car. The warm blast of hot air was welcome from the cold night and you bounced in your seat. Other patrons had the same idea, people flocking to their cars to escape the traffic jam on exit.

Terry managed to get lucky, taking off down the street while you gushed about all of the marine animals that you saw. You told Terry about a mermaid book you had swimming in your head but was too nervous to write.

“Nervous? Why? Your writing is incredible,” he said. 

Before you parted ways from the cabin, Terry made you swear to send him links to your books. You didn’t really want to at the time. It was one thing to admit to being a romance writer but it was another thing entirely to let a man read your filthy thoughts. 

It was like handing him the key to your spank bank, letting him see every nasty and disgusting thought you harbored. Which still paled in comparison to the acrobatic positions he bent you in for the rest of the weeks you stayed. 

He ended up reading your books with a critical eye, enjoying the way your mind worked regarding the smut but also loving the characters you put together. You simply couldn’t stand his praise, begging him to stop gushing over it. You loved it, but coming from his lips was too much to bear. 

“Because the ocean scares the shit out of me! What the hell is out there that NASA is trying to get away from?” You asked.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “Ain’t nothin’ but water and fish,” he said.

You shook your head. “Naw, something ain’t right out there. Did you know squids can get 43 feet long? That’s fucking huge!” 

Terry only chuckled again and poked your thigh. “Ain’t got shit with you writing a mermaid book. What was it about?” 

You sighed and leaned back in your seat. “It was going to be about survey stations built far beneath the ocean and mermaids start revealing themselves, luring science teams to the water to turn them. It wasn’t overly romantic and quite dark actually,” you said.

“Naw, you gon’ need to write that. That sounds dope as hell,” he said.

You beamed at him, feeling jelly oozing all over your body. “Thank you. I might still write it but I need to let it marinate,” you said. 

Terry next took you to an upscale Thai restaurant. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, with intimate lighting and subtle Valentine’s Day decorations. Nothing more than heart streamers and extra flowers on each table but it got the point across.

There were other customers there, all wrapped up in their own bubbles of love. There were a few families there as well, but the chatter was low and the atmosphere serene.

Terry took your coat before letting you slide into the curved booth. Terry slid in on the other side, meeting you in the middle. You couldn’t help looking at him, your eyes drawn to him over and over. 

He was simply too good to be true. But if you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up. Never wanted to exist where he wasn’t. It was too much, too fast and yet you raced head first towards it. 

Terry took the rose from you and trailed it along your bare arms. His eyes followed the movement and you watched him, watched the intense focus of his gaze on his important duty to caress your skin. 

Your body took flight. Flew too close to the sun and burst into flames. You burned from the inside out, a fire low in your belly that you were certain only he could quench. 

“The filthy things I’m going to do to you,” Terry murmured. 

“What?” You asked, breath completely snatched. 

A waiter swung by at that exact moment and you side eyed Terry, wondering if he planned that too. You ordered Pad Thai and a drink while Terry ordered Mongolian stir-fry and whiskey. The picture looked enticing on the menu and you already told Terry that you’d steal some.

“Not if you don’t wanna pull back a nub,” he said.

“You won’t share with me?” You asked, blinking at him. 

He frowned at you but you kept up the bit and blinked some more. He finally relented, sighing and rolling his eyes. “A piece,” he said.

“Damn, that’s cold. I don’t want yo’ funky stir-fry then,” you said.

Terry trailed the rose down your other arm, making you inhale sharply. Each slide of the velvet petals raised goosebumps in its wake. Made your thighs clench. Made your panties damp. 

“You know I’ll share my stir-fry with you, chipmunk,” he said. 

“Too late. Don’t want it,” you said. You tried to snatch your hand from out of his grasp but held firm. If anything, he yanked you closer and claimed your lips with his. 

“Too bad. You’re getting it,” he said. 

Your eyes drooped down to his lips. His eyes caught the motion so he made a show of licking his lips slowly, seductively. His pink tongue poked out slightly and your eyes zeroed in on it. Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth and you bit down.

“Keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it to dessert,” he said.

“Fuck dessert,” you said immediately, eyes still focused on his plump bottom lip. 

Terry gave you a rare, breathtaking grin. You were going to have to send him your hospital bill. If he continued to snatch your breath, you would need an inhaler or an oxygen tank.

“You need some more inspiration?” He asked.

“Always do. I can conjure some nasty things. But the right muse will always make it better,” you said. 

Terry trailed the rose under your chin and lifted your head, directing your movements with the push and pull of the rose on your skin. 

The waiter returned with your drinks, breaking you out of the dirty bubble you found yourself in with Terry. This man had you ready to toss everything to the ground and let him have his way with you in full view of everybody.

You snapped your spine straight and thanked the waiter, tips of your ears burning. When he was gone, you turned to Terry and tapped his hand. “You are going to get us kicked out!” You said.

“There’s two of us at this table,” he said. He winked at you and drank some water. You watched the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple. It was the most normal thing in the world and it had your imagination kicking into overdrive. Scenes flashed in your mind but you mentally shook yourself.

Your writer's brain was firmly in the off position tonight. No scenes, no lines, no descriptions. 

You steered the conversation to safer topics, accepting the arrival of your dinner. The chatter in the restaurant faded to the background while you paid attention to Terry and the many stories he told you about being on base. 

“So you never got deployed? Like never?” You asked.

Terry finished chewing and wiped his mouth. He shook his head. “I put in for infantry so I could see the world but because of my background with jiu-jitsu, my commanding officers found a different use for me,” he said. 

You shook your head. “Damn, I hear you. How long did you stay in?” 

Terry hummed and pushed food onto his fork. You leaned over a stole of a piece of beef, giggling at his side eye. He retaliated by stealing a piece of chicken off of your plate. It was only fair so you let him. 

“About…seven years or so. Fell into the restaurant business before…” Terry narrowed his eyes and trailed off. He cleared his throat and you reached out to rub your thumb across his knuckles.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” you said, giving him the easy out.

He nodded and cleared his throat once more, jaw flexing. Your heart twinged with the thousand yard stare he held. His eyes cleared and then he asked what came next for your book now that you were finished. 

You told him that it went through your editor to tighten up story issues and character development. Then off to your agent to try to sell the damn thing. But with the way Vanessa reacted, you may find yourself in a bidding war. Le sigh. A girl could dream. 

The table had been cleared away, leaving just the two of you again. You always had room for something sweet, but your panties would have to be peeled off of you at this point. Beyond his overt sexiness, you were thoroughly attracted to Terry’s mind. To the way he thought and worked through things.

His compelling storytelling was hypnotizing, the deep timbre of his voice like its own lullaby. He had unique insights to things, finding the most succinct ways to explain. But he was also goofy sometimes, slipping deeper into that Carolina accent when he talked about his childhood with Adam. 

You were attracted to how he spoke about his family. His parents were back home, living out their retirement in a nice house his dad built back in Greenville. You laughed at all of the stories from random cookouts and family reunions over the years.

You were simply attracted to him. Completely. That crush had a chokehold on you and would never let go. Not while Terry looked as good as he did, as broad as he was, a silver chain swinging around his neck with his movements. 

He was usually still and intentional but he seemed to loosen up as the night wore on and his second glass of whiskey made its way down the hatch.

“Ready to get out of here?” He asked.

“Yes, please!” You said, nodding your head.

Terry chuckled but flagged down the waiter for the check. After he paid, he helped you back into your jacket and handed the rose back to you for safekeeping. “Take care of that for me,” he said, a sinful promise in his voice. 

You gave him a look but he didn’t say anything further as he guided you out of the restaurant. He tucked you safely into his car and headed back towards the hotel. 

Your body buzzed with anticipation as you and Terry headed to the room. He held your hand but it was not enough. You leaned into him until he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, guiding you into the elevator once it sighed open.

The car was empty so Terry made it even smaller by crowding you into the corner. You giggled nervously as he straightened up to his full height and looked down his nose at you. His perfectly arched eyebrows lifted higher, like he was assessing you and found you more than acceptable. Desirable. 

Terry cupped his hand around your neck, fingers digging into that delicate dip at the base. You keened into him and he nuzzled his nose against your jaw. “You smell so good,” he said. 

He placed soft kisses to your jaw and cheek, his breaths fanned across your skin and you shivered, a low moan escaping your lips. 

“Terry,” you sighed.

“Me too,” he whispered against your skin. 

Someone above must be on your side because the elevator car lifted to your floor without any stops. Terry pulled you by the hand, taking wide strides that you fought to keep up with. Your eagerness only matched his so you didn’t complain about being dragged around like a rag doll. 

He entered the hotel room first. But when he moved out of the way, you gasped in surprise. 

The hotel room had been transformed. The lights were still low, but there were red rose petals scattered all over the floor. The trail led through the living room, candles set strategically on table surfaces far from danger. 

A huge bouquet of roses sat on the coffee table with a box of milk chocolate clusters beside it. On one of the end tables, there was a bottle of champagne resting in ice and two fancy champagne flutes placed next to it.

You turned to Terry who smirked. He locked the door behind you and then stepped forward, helping you out of your jacket. He placed it and his own in the closet and you discarded your clutch in your duffel bag. You put the rose down on the bartop and faced Terry. 

You toed off your shoes and Terry mirrored you. “What would you say to…a bath? Some music? Some champagne?” 

Your eyes welled with unshed tears. He really did make it difficult for you to get used to anything less than this. This was only after a few months of knowing each other. What was he going to be like a year from now? Two years from now? 

This standard couldn’t be sustainable yet if anyone could pull it off, it would be Terry. And that thought just made your crush worse. It should be called something different. ‘Crush’ sounded too small. Too juvenile. 

It did little to describe the overwhelming weight of your attraction to Terry. Like gravity compressed you into a tiny atom and there was no way to escape.

“Don’t cry. We got all weekend,” he said. 

He approached you slowly, taking his time to look you over. His finger delicately traced the curve of his lips as he admired your body. He placed his hands around your waist and swayed with you, thumbs pressing into your sides. 

He leaned down, bringing his warm lips to yours with a gentle press. He nuzzled his nose against your skin while his fingers slid up your sides and slipped around your back. He worked on your dress, finding the zipper and pulling, the sound too loud in the quiet room. 

Your dress fell from your shoulders creating a puddle of red at your feet. Terry held your hand and helped you step out until your feet hit the carpet again. Warm air blew from the heater and brushed over your exposed chest. 

You reached out and gripped the edges of Terry’s sweater, pulling it up and revealed rippling abs underneath. He helped pull the sweater the rest of the way and he dropped it beside your dress. 

You hummed in appreciation as you tucked your fingers through his belt loops and pulled his hips closer to you. Terry’s eyebrow shot up in amusement as you went to work on his belt, his pants quickly joining the pile of clothes at your feet.

“Turn for me,” he said. Terry groaned as he made you turn, giving him a view of your backside and your wine colored lacy panties. He took a deep breath and rubbed his goatee before grabbing your hips and pulling your back into his chest.

“Can’t wait to have you fresh from the bath, laid out on the bed for me. Pretty pussy lookin’ so wet and juicy,” he whispered in your ear. 

Your body tingled, shivers racing down your spine at his sinful words. The entire night had put you on edge. Teetering on the precipice of sanity and you didn’t know how you were still hanging on. Still playing his game. 

“It has been too fucking long since we’ve seen each other,” you said. In truth, it had been about three weeks. 

Mr. Omar kept Terry busy, fixing up things in his other cabins. Mr. Omar was also back to his matchmaking shenanigans, booking two renters for the same cabin. Your book kept you busy as well and your few engagements gobbled up your weekends. 

“Too fucking long,” he agreed. He pushed you forward towards the bedroom. He stopped long enough to grab the champagne bottle and flutes, taking it into the bathroom with him.

There were more candles in the bathroom and Terry set everything down on the wide marble sink, turning on the bath to get it started. You both tested the water and agreed on a temperature that was warm enough for you and cool enough for him. 

As the tub filled with suds, Terry grabbed a remote and turned on music. A playlist began with throwback R&B songs that filtered throughout the room from a bluetooth speaker. 

You touched on each other, hands exploring and re-learning each other. You had to admit, you didn’t know if this tightrope between you would survive outside of the cabin. It felt like an interlude or like a snowglobe, a brief moment captured in time.

But everything flowed so naturally. His energy matched your own. He still remained goofy as hell. And the weekends you managed to get together were nothing but sex-filled marathons. Like you were trying to memorize every bit of it, store it all up to survive until the next time you saw each other. 

Ginuwine’s ‘In Those Jeans’ played from the speaker as Terry’s hands glided all over your skin. He licked and nibbled on your neck, hands getting lower and lower. You hummed and touched him just as greedily. Just as hungrily. 

His skin was smooth with a light dusting of hair leading to a happy trail. His briefs obscured your prize at the end of the rainbow but you were happy to tease him by playing with the wide band.

He took a deep breath and then hummed low in his throat as you skirted around his thick bulge, moving your hands back to his chest and over his shoulders.

His fingers hooked around your panties and he pulled, peeling it from between your thighs. Terry cursed under his breath as your slick created a chain from your panties to your pussy, showing just how turned on you were.

“I knew I should have buried my fingers in this in the restaurant. I just knew your pussy was wet for me,” he said, kissing your thigh as he helped you step out of your panties. 

“What makes you think it’s for you?” You asked. 

Terry responded by biting your thigh and you shrieked from the unexpected pain. Terry chuckled as he straightened up, getting rid of his underwear in record time. His dick bounced, fully erect, practically reaching for you. 

You wrapped your hand around the base of him and gently stroked him, the velvet smoothness so at odds with how hard he was. The veins stood out, like curving rivers on his dick and your pussy ached, remembering exactly how it felt to have that glorious piece of meat deep inside you. 

“I licked it, it’s mine,” he said, his voice rough with his conviction. Your pussy throbbed, needing to see more of this little possessive side to him. You liked it. A lot. 

“Hmm. I don’t know, it’s been a while. You might have to lick it again,” you said. You grinned at him as Terry shook his head at you. You leaned down and kissed his tip. His dick twitched in your hand and Terry growled. You giggled innocently.

“Don’t worry. I’ll lick you back,” you said, speaking directly to his dick. Terry’s rusty, deep-belly laugh made you feel like you accomplished the impossible. Like you took home gold in Olympic gymnastics. You grinned as Terry pulled you into a deep kiss, tongue slipping past your lips. His dick poked your belly and you moaned. 

The bath was done so Terry turned off the water. Fluffy white suds filled the tub, the sweet aroma of the soap filling the room. The bathroom got hotter with the steam rising from the water. He poured champagne into the flutes and then helped you sit down in the tub.

He handed you your drink and then climbed in behind you. You settled your back against his chest and sighed. The jacuzzi tub was the perfect size to accommodate the both of you. His long legs stretched comfortably in front of him and you rubbed his thighs, feeling the hairs on his legs dance through your fingers. 

‘Too Close’ by Next came on and you bounced your shoulders, taking a pull of your drink. You and Terry settled into conversation about nothing fancy. Just learning more about each other while he gave you a massage. 

“Terry, please, I will die from all this romance,” you sighed. He rubbed a particularly sore spot on your neck, the damn thing a constant ache from all the hunching over the keyboard you did. 

Terry chuckled. “I take my job seriously,” he whispered in your ear. 

You giggled. “You still trying to be my muse,” you said, lowering your voice around the word and making it sound dirty. 

“Damn right. The Greeks had nine muses for a reason,” Terry said. 

“You can do the work of nine muses?” You giggled, your body relaxing further and further against him. If he kept this up, you would smooth pass out in the tub. You hummed as he worked lower, digging in just under your shoulder blade.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered in your ear.

He must’ve hit a reset button as you moaned, pressure releasing from your back. “Fuuuuck,” you moaned, zips of pleasure spreading from the spot he rubbed. His dick twitched against your ass and you wiggled, shifting the water.

“You trynna get in trouble?” Terry asked, nibbling on your ear. 

“What kind of trouble?” You asked, wiggling your ass again. 

Terry really was the perfect muse despite your teasing. He inspired you to write more and more until you looked up and thousands of words were pouring from you. You tried new things you never thought you would in your writing. 

This definitely had to go in a book somewhere. This entire night had been sweet and perfect. Though, if you were writing this part, you would definitely have his hand slip around to your titties by now. He would grab the left…no, the right one because it was his favorite.

Terry’s hand snaked around your body, gripping your titties from underneath. He squeezed your right titty and you gasped, leaning up and turning around.

“How did you know?!” You screamed.

“Know what?” He asked. 

“I was literally thinking you should grab my right titty!” You giggled and shook your head. You squinted though, wondering if he really could read your mind. His pretty eyes blinked softly at you, long eyelashes fanning his cheeks. 

“Next time, use your words,” Terry said. 

You swallowed painfully. Oop. His words were like their own aphrodisiac, pulling you back into the moment. He drew you to him and you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. Gently at first, to ensure this was real. That he existed. 

You sighed as his soapy fingers continued to pinch and play with your right nipple. His tongue slipped easily between your lips, dancing with your own. 

‘Don’t Let Go’ by En Vogue came on next and you hummed, deepening the kiss. Once wasn’t enough. Twice wasn’t enough. 

“Terry,” you moaned into his mouth.

Terry hummed and you pulled back long enough to look him in the eye. “Fuck me, please. This pussy need you,” you purred.

“Oh, it needs me huh?” He asked. His fingers slipped into the water, trailing down your tummy, on its way to your favorite destination. You moaned as his long fingers teased around your pussy lips. Skating just outside of your clit. So, so close. 

“I need that big dick,” you moaned. No shame. No regrets or remorse. You wanted and you wanted and you wanted Terry inside you right this second. 

Terry hugged you closer, kissing you while his fingers continued their slow torture. You jerked your hips, trying to move him where you needed him. Terry grinned against your lips while he finally pushed two fingers inside you.

“Fuuck,” you cried while his fingers went down to the knuckle, teasing your inner walls. He felt so damn good. But it wasn’t enough. His fingers were lovely but poor substitutes to his dick. To his beautiful, long, thick dick that knew exactly how to make you sing soprano. 

Terry broke the kiss, kissing the corner of your mouth. He moved his lips along your face until he reached your ear once more. He teased your earlobe with his teeth and your pussy clenched around his fingers.

Terry hummed. “She gon’ talk to me again?” He asked.

You nodded and whimpered. 

“She gon’ growl at me and tell me what she needs?” He asked. He licked behind your ear, making you shiver all over even as his fingers made your belly flip. 

“Oh, yessss,” you moaned. 

“Hm, then let me feel she want me,” he whispered in your ear. 

Damn him. Tears welled in your eyes as your orgasm slipped through you like a gentle current. It held all the power of a tsunami but you welcomed it and so it only rocked you instead of pulling you under. 

“Oh, fuck, Terry,” you moaned. 

Terry nibbled on your neck while he pumped his fingers through your orgasm, his thick fingers massaging and seeking. 

He hummed low in his throat. A deep, satisfied sound as if he earned your orgasm too. As if he was humble enough to not consider how much power he held over your body. 

“Time to eat,” Terry said. He withdrew his fingers slowly, dragging the rough pads of his fingers through your folds. You whimpered as he withdrew at last, making your pussy clench like she wanted him back home.

He helped you stand safely and you moaned, watching suds drip down his delicious body. You marveled at it, using your free hand to touch and nudge and play with the soap slipping down. 

You bit your lip and then gripped his still hard dick, using the free lubricant to work him over. Terry hissed, his eyes snapping shut and his jaw flexed. He groaned, his lips parting. Fuck, he was beautiful.

You wished you had the proper poetic words to describe how radiant he was. How magnificent. Both inside and out. He was the true definition of a man. One who protects and provides, is vulnerable and open about his feelings. One who wouldn’t tolerate disrespect in his presence and wasn’t afraid to approach someone man to man. 

He worked with old school rules. The kind of rules that were all about protecting your community. Giving back to each other. Living by a code all men had to figure out for themselves as they decided what kind of man they wanted to be. 

It was clear Terry had a deep relationship with his code. One that screamed that he wouldn’t stand for injustice. Not when it really counted. Not if he had something to do about it. 

Terry groaned, pushing his hips into your hands. “That feel good?” You asked.

Terry nodded, lips twitching with pleasure. You licked your canines, eyes zeroed in on every micro expression on his face. 

Terry growled and tried to still your hand. You fought for possession over his dick. His massive hands stopped you easily and then he opened his eyes. He looked almost sleepy as he smirked.

“There’s never going to be a day I cum before you get off at least twice,” he said, conviction in every single syllable. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you giggled nervously. “Are you challenging me?” You asked.

Terry grinned, turning him more animal-like. “You ain’t gon’ win that,” he said and shook his head.

You merely smiled and nodded your head. Oh, he didn’t know how down and dirty you got. Not literally, because gross, but you were as competitive as they came. The men in your family didn’t even know how to spell ‘mercy’. You silently accepted the gauntlet Terry unknowingly threw down.

“I can see the gears turning in your head,” Terry said.

You gave him a coy shrug and polished off the rest of your champagne, fizzy bubbles dancing on your tongue. 

Terry helped you get out of the tub and then he pulled the drain. You took his glass and placed it on the sink while Terry grabbed a towel and dried you off first.

He made it a slow form of torture by starting from the top, rubbing your shoulders. His eyes never left yours as he moved the towel lower and lower. After he dried off your titties, he suckled a nipple into his mouth.

Your pussy ached as you moaned, body tilting forward. Terry kept you firmly within his grasp as he licked and suckled. His juicy lips formed a seal and he sucked hard, the answering pull in your pussy almost painful. 

“Terry,” you said slowly. 

“Me too,” he said. He moved on to the next nipple, teasing the nub between his teeth gently. You moaned, going weak in the knees. Still, Terry held you. Made you stand there and shiver with pleasure. 

Was it possible to cum from playing with your nipples? You were more than willing to find out as a steady beat pulsed in your pussy.

He let your nipple go with a loud smack and continued his way down. He thoroughly dried you while water and runaway suds dripped down his long body. You watched one droplet slip down his neck and glide down his chest, between his pecs, and down his abs.

Terry smirked at you. You grabbed the towel from him. Turnabout was only fair play. You couldn’t get every inch of him, but you went just as slowly, getting every last wayward droplet. By the time you made it to his dick, you gave him a saucy wink before wrapping your lips around the tip.

You didn’t go any further. You just sucked on the fat tip and hummed, making your cheeks vibrate on it. Terry moaned and rolled his hips, looking to push deeper but you didn’t allow him to. You sucked and sucked, licking the slit like you were trying to get inside. 

Terry roughly grunted and then pushed your shoulders to get you to release him. Your plan formed in your mind with ease, thinking two steps ahead. You would have to lead him into a false sense of security and then strike when he least expected it.

Until you one day would ask for a little role play. A little light bondage. A little fun thing you would suggest. Being the man he was, he would agree. And then you’d attack him and suck that long luscious dick to your heart’s content.

You sighed, acted put out, and then finished drying off his legs. You could write a whole sonnet about his thighs alone. They were so big and juicy, you took a page out of his book and bit him back.

He twitched and chuckled and you looked up at him. Was he…ticklish? You dug your fingers into the back of his legs and he danced out of your way.

“Are you ticklish?” You asked, colorful surprise in your voice.

“No. Your tiny chipmunk fingers feel weird,” he said. You giggled and tried to reach for him again but he danced just out of your way with a chuckle. He reached out and helped you stand. 

Once on your feet, you leaned up to get another taste of them lips. Of them big, juicy lips that made you buy a new vibrator inspired by him and gave him a name: Lil’ Terry.

Terry pulled away first, taking a deep breath. He grabbed the bluetooth speaker and tugged you into the bedroom. He left the light on in the bathroom so that he could see where he was going. 

With the light from the living room also spilling in, it gave the room more than enough light to see him move around. ‘P.O.V.’ by dvsn turned on and you wondered if Terry had everything planned down to the song changes.

It was too timely. Too perfect to be explained any other way. As if the universe itself had a way of showing you that Terry was just that type of man. In a complete league of his own. 

The sexy beat and hushed singing made your body tingle. Terry left the room briefly, returning with the rose in his hand. You leaned up on your elbows, lifting your eyebrow in a silent question.

“Gettin’ yo ass back for that stunt you pulled,” he said. 

You giggled. “You keep accusing me of shit,” you said and sucked your teeth.

“You keep doin’ shit,” he said.

You gasped playfully. “Moi? You’re gonna gaslight me, sir?” You asked. You hoped to take his mind off of whatever dirty trick he had pulled up his sleeve. No such luck. He saw right through your game, moving to stand in front of you at the edge of the bed.

You tilted your head, sliding your feet up his legs. He hummed and rolled his hips but made no other indication that you affected him. You bumped your toe against his dick and he gripped your ankle with a hard squeeze.

You gasped as he squeezed harder and then moved your legs further apart. He grinned as you were bared to him, your pussy likely shining with your arousal. 

“Have I given you enough fuel for your next story?” He asked. He twirled the rose in his hand before bringing it to his nose. His eyelashes fanned across his cheeks as he closed his eyes and inhaled.

Your teeth chattered as he snapped those eyes open. You wished you could see what color they were. Whether they were blue with desire or hazel with fire this time. 

He lowered the rose until he drew it across your belly. You moaned at the tender touch, your body gyrating on the bed from the torture. He was a mean, mean man and your skin tingled wherever he moved the rose. 

“Oh, Terry, don't tease me,” you moaned. 

“Answer my question,” he said.

“What was the question?” You cried as he moved the rose over your mound, the rose flirting with your pussy hairs. 

Terry repeated this question and you nodded. “Oh yeah, this is going to be a newsletter exclusive,” you sighed. There was no way you could keep this filthy shit to yourself. 

You made a brief mental note to ask Terry where the hell he got this inspiration. It surpassed your freak and you moaned just from that alone. You loved a nigga that loved sex just as much as you did. 

“When I was reading your books, I couldn’t help trying to pick out pieces of you. Things you let slip about your mind,” he said. He teased your wet slit with the rose and you tried to close your legs.

Too much. Too much.

Terry yanked your thighs open wider, humming low. “And those sex scenes…had my dick throbbing just picturing me doing those things to you,” he said.

Oh, you were going to combust. You cried, a tinny sound that was too loud in your own ears. “Did you grip your shit?” You asked.

Terry nodded. “Down to the base. I came too fuckin’ quick,” he said. 

“Shit,” you said. You pictured it all so clearly. Terry propped up in bed with your book in his hand. Doing the infamous one hander, large paw wrapped around his throbbing dick. You wondered if he moaned when he was alone or if he thrust his hips up like the secret freak he was.

Terry drifted the rose across your skin, the flower feather light against your dewy skin. The petals teased your nipples and you squirmed dropping down onto the bed. 

Terry let go of your ankle, sinking down to his knees. He placed the rose across your titties and then gripped under your thighs, pulling you and spreading you wider at the same time. He hooked your thighs over his shoulders while he got comfortable.

He used his thumbs to tease your pussy lips open, cooing at the slick way they peeled apart. “Nice and creamy for me,” he hummed. 

He leaned forward and pushed his nose into your pussy, licking your entrance with lazy, canine finesse. He wielded his long tongue like an expert, dueling and teasing your clit like he was sparring. 

You made wild, incoherent noises. Your fantasy played like a movie in your mind while Terry ate you like a man starved. Perhaps he was. Perhaps that stir-fry hadn’t hit the spot for someone with his appetite. He slipped two fingers in your entrance while he focused his tongue around your clit. 

“Shit, right there. Oh, fucking right there!” You screamed. You went off with explosions behind your eyelids, quakes wracking your body and making you spin out of control. Terry continued to lick and fuck you through it.

“Hmm, you said she was gon’ talk to me,” he whispered into your pussy. He sounded almost put out, like you hadn’t lived up to your promises and he was gonna make you pay. 

“Put that dick in me and hear her sing,” you moaned. Your pussy clenched around his fingers, remembering that thing he did on the couch in the cabin. 

Terry chuckled against your clit, flattening his tongue. 

He massaged your inner walls, moaning into your pussy as he flicked his tongue back and forth. His fingers…those fingers could have you speaking in tongues. You would gladly conjure whatever the hell he wanted if he would just ease up. Just give you some kind of breather.

Terry kept going, on a personal mission to teach you a lesson. But fuck if you knew what it was. What sin did you commit against this god that had him feasting on your body as payment?

He massaged another orgasm out of you, teasing it out of your body like he owned it. You cried out, gripped the back of his head, and screamed his name as fresh arousal leaked out of you. 

“Please, I need that dick. Put that dick inside me,” you whimpered.  Your thighs shook. 

Terry, thankfully, decided that your torture was over. He stood up from the floor, wiping his goatee and you moaned, loving the dirtiness of it. “Not all of it, let me taste,” you said. 

Terry grinned as he climbed over you, the bed dipping from his weight. He brought a sauna with him, heat rolling off of him in waves. You brought your hands up to finger trace his tattoos. The birds on his arms had to be your favorite and you hoped he told you about each one eventually. 

He kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You moaned, licking his lips trying to gather up every drop.

“That’s my job,” he growled.

You giggled and you kissed him more, never getting enough.. A thousand kisses wouldn’t satisfy you. You wanted more. You wanted to know more about him. More of him. Walk into his mind and explore the complexities. 

Terry settled into position, his hips forcing your legs apart. He leaned to one side and gripped his dick swirling the tip through your dripping folds to get him good and soaked before he tested your entrance.

You hissed a bit at the burn but then cried until he pushed in inch by inch, length by length. He pulled out and then pulled back in, repeating the process over and over to make sure you were comfortable. 

Once you soaked him down to the base, he moved the rose from your chest and tossed it beside your head. He continued to kiss you as he lined himself up and sunk in one swift push. 

You cried out. Stuffed full of his dick that damn near touched your guts. He pulled out and your pussy rumbled, talking to him just as he wanted. He grunted in satisfaction before rolling his hips, stroking into you with precision.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good,” you moaned.

“That’s my line,” he growled, nipping at your jaw. 

You only giggled, breathlessly, as he dug deep in your pussy. Staking a flag and claiming you as his. He groaned as you nearly took him all the way to the base. Your pussy welcoming him in, sucking him in, gripping his shit. You could barely clench around the fullness of him.

His eyes found yours as he cupped your jaw. Brought your lips back to his. Fuck, his stroke game made your legs turn to jelly. Weak. Spent. Your eyes glazed over as he dug into you over and over.

Your nails raked down his back as he hit it very well. Like he found the secret cheat code to your body and knew exactly what you needed. What you craved. 

His thumb slipped between your lips, pressing down on your tongue. “Suck it,” he demanded.

You listened. You sucked hard on his thumb, just as badly as you wanted to suck on his dick. Terry groaned, kissing the corner of your lips. “Oh, shit, I’m gonna cum,” you murmured around his finger.

You felt it like an oncoming train. Your thighs quivered, belly flipping, toes curling. “Cream that shit up good,” he whispered against your lips.

Your nails gripped on for dear life as you came apart, eyes rolling into the back of your head. As you came, Terry pulled out and then climbed lower to lap at your gushing pussy. “Shit, shit,” you panted.

He hummed and kissed up your body as he slipped back inside. He came instantly, flooding your insides with the thick heat of his cum. Your thighs closed around his hips, keeping him buried to the absolute hilt. 

“Fuck, you unmake me,” Terry groaned.

“Oh, fuck, don’t say that,” you whimpered. 

Terry chuckled. He kissed the corner of your lips and then slid his finger out of your mouth. “Clean this mess you made,” he said. He kissed your jaw and nuzzled your neck with his his regal nose. 

You sighed as Terry slipped out of you, a warm gush of your combined juices rolling out of you. You twisted and turned on the bed with Terry until he rested at the head of the bed, gripping his dick and stroking.

You climbed between his legs and opened your mouth. He groaned and tapped his large dick against your lips, slapping your face with his thick meat. He let go and let you take over, choosing to focus on your hair instead.

He yanked at the scrunchie to pull your braids out of your bun. Your braids tickled your shoulders as it spilled around his groin. You moaned and sucked him down, finally getting to play with all this piece of man.

You cupped his heavy, thick balls squeezing ever so slightly while you worked his shaft. You licked up your combined juices, moaning at the salty complimentary taste of your mix. Terry groaned, throwing his head back against the headboard. 

You scooted closer on your knees and then flattened against the bed on your stomach, wiggling your ass high in the air. Terry groaned, his eyes getting lower and lower. Were his eyes still open? Were they closed?

You watched him as you sucked him down, relaxing your jaw and letting his thrusting hips do most of the work for you. You took him as far as you could and he helped you the rest of the way, massaging the back of your jaw.

You moaned and then let him go with a pop, spat on his dick, and then sucked him back down with loud, wet noises dueling with the music in the background. ‘Freak Me’ by Silk crooned in the background. 

Terry groaned, his hand slipping into your braids. He grabbed a handful and pushed you faster on his dick. “Fuck, I’m close. Just like that,” Terry moaned. His eyes clenched so deliciously, jaw flexed just so, and your pussy throbbed. 

A few pumps later, Terry climaxed, growling low in his throat as he slipped down your throat. You gobbled him all up, licking your lollipop clean.

Terry panted as he pulled you higher on his body, positioning your knees beside his hips. “Oh, please sir, may I have some more?” You purred.

Terry closed his eyes and cursed, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

He kissed you, lips crashing, teeth clashing, as he slipped inside you. You moaned and sat down on his dick, testing the mattress. 

“Ride that shit. Get her singing,” he commanded. He slapped your ass to get you moving and you squeaked, finding a nice rhythm to sit on his dick with sloppy wet smacks. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. He pulled away, too desperate for air as you rode him. His hands kept your shoulders warm, moving his hands in a way to keep the goosebumps from your flesh. You gripped onto his shoulders for support and slammed harder, delighted that you could take him like this.

Your pussy talked to him, getting louder and louder, competing with the music until he took over. He gripped your ass and slammed you on his dick, his hips thrusting and driving into you like you held every secret he wanted to unravel. 

“Terry!” You screamed.

“Me too!” He moaned. 

In tandem, you came and Terry followed shortly after, both chasing bliss in each other’s bodies one last time. 

Your lungs burned as you panted and huffed, trying to get back all the air Terry stole. He peppered your skin with kisses, rubbing your back as he softened inside you. You nuzzled each other, each unwilling to move but knowing you had to. 

You got off of him first, letting his cum slip out of you. “We’re going to need new sheets,” you giggled.

Terry huffed a laugh and watched your body jiggle as you climbed out of bed. He rolled out after you and you spent the rest of the night relaxing once more into that jacuzzi tub and did it proper this time.

Talking, laughing, and falling even deeper for this man called Terry Richmond.

WHEW. There's always more of that! The Secret Terry Richmond Files | 'Twas the Night

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[yaachtynoboat711]

MY SHAYLA MAKAYLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

She’s gone through so much and she’s still a baby 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

18+ ONLY BLOG *🚩MINORS GO AWAY!🚩

970 words

Reblog! Comment like it sends me a thrill...cuz it does ;)

Look...I love Mr Wolf with my soul but Makayla's absence from the crossover episodes about drove me crazy!!! My brain would not stop thinking about it and conjured up one of the scenes that I think should have been in there.😜

✨This is for my girls in the Real SisterWives of Kevin Atwater community.✨ 💜💜Love y'all!!💜💜

humble tags: @yaachtynoboat711 @awerkofart @nerdieforpedro @dabratzchronicles @reelwriter19 @berberriescorner @megamindsecretlair @drabbles-mc @onherereading @inthekeyofshe @oklahomapeach

***********************************

Here we go...

Kevin was typing away at his desk, chasing leads amid the mayhem��of the Intelligence Unit. With Dante and all the help that was brought in talking in the background and their radio’s constant squawking already a distraction, his phone ringing again made him rub his forehead roughly for want of this day being over. Still, he rushed to answer it without looking at it first.

“Yeah.”

“Kevin?”

Frowning at the unfamiliar female voice, he cleared his throat before speaking a little louder, “Kevin Atwater Chicago PD, what can I do for you?”

He heard the relieved exhale the caller gave. “Okay. Okay, good. Kevin um, this Carly. I work for Kim…well Kim and Adam. I mean, I’m the new babysitter.”

Kevin immediately remembered getting a text two weeks before from Adam about her and his heart lurched. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not exactly." She lowered her voice to keep from being heard over the television Makayla twas staring blindly at. "It’s just…when I picked up Makayla from school today, she had already seen the crazy that was going on downtown from one of her friends. And she had been trying to call Adam but he wasn’t answering and then her teacher took their phones. I got it back but when I called Adam there was no answer and Kim said she had to call back. But Makayla, she’s…she’s pretty upset. I had her turn on a movie because the news is showing it on every channel. I’m sorry to call you but I didn’t know what else to do to distract her. This is kind of a unique situation.”

“It’s alright.”

“She's asking questions and--.”

“It’s all good. Don’t stress.” Kevin looked up to find Dante’s eyes on him, questioning. Waving off his concern with a half smile and a shake of his head, Kevin returned to his call. “Hey uh, just hang in there a couple minutes I’ll get Kim to call.”

“That's the thing, she wants Adam.”

Kevin paused with his hand low on his hip, puffing his cheeks out to let loose a heavy exhale. There was no way he was telling Mak that Adam was trapped underground some damn where. Heading toward the break room for quiet and privacy, he steeled himself to talk to her. “I got it. Put her on, okay?”

After a shuffle, Mak’s quiet voice filled his ear. “Uncle Kevin?”

“That’s me.” His smooth, warm voice poured through the line. “Hey, Mak. What’s goin’ on babygirl?”

On the other end, Makayla clutched the phone with both hands. She hadn’t been able to stop the tightening in her chest since seeing the glimpse of footage on the disaster downtown. There were so many people on the ground and the fire department trucks. She saw so many police with their uniforms covered in dirt. It looked like a war zone.

“Are you where the street is on fire?”

Her voice was clear but Kevin could still hear the fear there and it broke his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, Mak. Unfortunately, we all are having to work it.”

“Dani said there was there a bomb. Are mom and dad--?”

“Wait now…no.” Kevin was quick to cut her off. “No bombs but there was an explosion.”

“Then how come mom and dad can’t talk to me?” There was so much hurt and confusion packed into her simple question. She needed to be consoled by her parents and once again, the city was getting all their time.

Kevin wiped his hand down his face, wanting to be very careful with his next words, “Aw, babygirl they want to, they really do but it’s kinda crazy right now. We’re trying to find the bad guys that caused all this and help all the people that got hurt. Everybody’s gotta move fast but listen...I'm at the station for a little bit. But when I get back down there, I’ll make sure they take a break and call you, alright?”

He could feel Makayla weighing his words in her pause. This little girl has seen way too much for her age. 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” His smile was hopeful even though he knew she needed so much more than just his word.

“Okay.”

Kevin’s smile faded at the trepidation still in her voice. “Mak…I got your back. You know that right?”

Makayla let out one of her famous long suffering sighs. “I know.”

“So when I promise you, I mean it. I ever break a promise to you before?”

“No.”

“Aight then, babygirl. You get your homework done and have dinner. I'll get to them as soon as I can and they're gonna call you before bed time. Hear me?”

Her pause wasn't so heavy this time and her voice was a bit more upbeat when she spoke, “Okay. Love you.”

Kevin swallowed against the lump in his throat. Kim may have adopted her but he felt just as responsible for her happiness. And given her history, he was truly honored by her choice to trust him - to love him. “Love you back. Talk to you soon.”

She didn't say goodbye. The shuffling sound he heard next let Kevin know Mak handed the phone back over. After a quick word with the babysitter, he ended the call and stood in the silence of the breakroom watching the commotion of bodies frantically working on the other side of the glass. Grateful for a moment to catch his breath, he mentally shook off the new weight of Makayla's need that was now on him. This has to turn out alright for her, he thought. Determined more than ever to get his friend and brother out of that tunnel in one piece - Kevin opened the door and threw himself back into the chaos.

.

- fin -

[yaachtynoboat711]

18+ ONLY BLOG *🚩MINORS GO AWAY!🚩

970 words

Reblog! Comment like it sends me a thrill...cuz it does ;)

Look...I love Mr Wolf with my soul but Makayla's absence from the crossover episodes about drove me crazy!!! My brain would not stop thinking about it and conjured up one of the scenes that I think should have been in there.😜

✨This is for my girls in the Real SisterWives of Kevin Atwater community.✨ 💜💜Love y'all!!💜💜

humble tags: @yaachtynoboat711 @awerkofart @nerdieforpedro @dabratzchronicles @reelwriter19 @berberriescorner @megamindsecretlair @drabbles-mc @onherereading @inthekeyofshe @oklahomapeach

***********************************

Here we go...

Kevin was typing away at his desk, chasing leads amid the mayhem of the Intelligence Unit. With Dante and all the help that was brought in talking in the background and their radio’s constant squawking already a distraction, his phone ringing again made him rub his forehead roughly for want of this day being over. Still, he rushed to answer it without looking at it first.

“Yeah.”

“Kevin?”

Frowning at the unfamiliar female voice, he cleared his throat before speaking a little louder, “Kevin Atwater Chicago PD, what can I do for you?”

He heard the relieved exhale the caller gave. “Okay. Okay, good. Kevin um, this Carly. I work for Kim…well Kim and Adam. I mean, I’m the new babysitter.”

Kevin immediately remembered getting a text two weeks before from Adam about her and his heart lurched. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not exactly." She lowered her voice to keep from being heard over the television Makayla twas staring blindly at. "It’s just…when I picked up Makayla from school today, she had already seen the crazy that was going on downtown from one of her friends. And she had been trying to call Adam but he wasn’t answering and then her teacher took their phones. I got it back but when I called Adam there was no answer and Kim said she had to call back. But Makayla, she’s…she’s pretty upset. I had her turn on a movie because the news is showing it on every channel. I’m sorry to call you but I didn’t know what else to do to distract her. This is kind of a unique situation.”

“It’s alright.”

“She's asking questions and--.”

“It’s all good. Don’t stress.” Kevin looked up to find Dante’s eyes on him, questioning. Waving off his concern with a half smile and a shake of his head, Kevin returned to his call. “Hey uh, just hang in there a couple minutes I’ll get Kim to call.”

“That's the thing, she wants Adam.”

Kevin paused with his hand low on his hip, puffing his cheeks out to let loose a heavy exhale. There was no way he was telling Mak that Adam was trapped underground some damn where. Heading toward the break room for quiet and privacy, he steeled himself to talk to her. “I got it. Put her on, okay?”

After a shuffle, Mak’s quiet voice filled his ear. “Uncle Kevin?”

“That’s me.” His smooth, warm voice poured through the line. “Hey, Mak. What’s goin’ on babygirl?”

On the other end, Makayla clutched the phone with both hands. She hadn’t been able to stop the tightening in her chest since seeing the glimpse of footage on the disaster downtown. There were so many people on the ground and the fire department trucks. She saw so many police with their uniforms covered in dirt. It looked like a war zone.

“Are you where the street is on fire?”

Her voice was clear but Kevin could still hear the fear there and it broke his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, Mak. Unfortunately, we all are having to work it.”

“Dani said there was there a bomb. Are mom and dad--?”

“Wait now…no.” Kevin was quick to cut her off. “No bombs but there was an explosion.”

“Then how come mom and dad can’t talk to me?” There was so much hurt and confusion packed into her simple question. She needed to be consoled by her parents and once again, the city was getting all their time.

Kevin wiped his hand down his face, wanting to be very careful with his next words, “Aw, babygirl they want to, they really do but it’s kinda crazy right now. We’re trying to find the bad guys that caused all this and help all the people that got hurt. Everybody’s gotta move fast but listen...I'm at the station for a little bit. But when I get back down there, I’ll make sure they take a break and call you, alright?”

He could feel Makayla weighing his words in her pause. This little girl has seen way too much for her age. 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” His smile was hopeful even though he knew she needed so much more than just his word.

“Okay.”

Kevin’s smile faded at the trepidation still in her voice. “Mak…I got your back. You know that right?”

Makayla let out one of her famous long suffering sighs. “I know.”

“So when I promise you, I mean it. I ever break a promise to you before?”

“No.”

“Aight then, babygirl. You get your homework done and have dinner. I'll get to them as soon as I can and they're gonna call you before bed time. Hear me?”

Her pause wasn't so heavy this time and her voice was a bit more upbeat when she spoke, “Okay. Love you.”

Kevin swallowed against the lump in his throat. Kim may have adopted her but he felt just as responsible for her happiness. And given her history, he was truly honored by her choice to trust him - to love him. “Love you back. Talk to you soon.”

She didn't say goodbye. The shuffling sound he heard next let Kevin know Mak handed the phone back over. After a quick word with the babysitter, he ended the call and stood in the silence of the breakroom watching the commotion of bodies frantically working on the other side of the glass. Grateful for a moment to catch his breath, he mentally shook off the new weight of Makayla's need that was now on him. This has to turn out alright for her, he thought. Determined more than ever to get his friend and brother out of that tunnel in one piece - Kevin opened the door and threw himself back into the chaos.

.

- fin -

[yaachtynoboat711]

Imma encourage filth every time!

Hey girl hey. I want to request a fix (I know you have a lot but) Terry has the intention of becoming a father and getting the reader pregnant the nastiest way he knows how to. The girliest smut if you will🫣. Love your writing pookie

A/N: Be very, very careful when and where you open this. I'm so serious. Be honest.

Savage

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, dirty talk, the exploration of femininity in relation to masculinity, heavy binary language used, allusions to Christian themes. Submissive Terry as in a guard dog is submissive. Dom Reader as in brats intentionally to break Terry. PIV, PORN, breeding kink on cocaine, Daddy!Terry, pussy lust Terry, use of pet names (Daddy and baby) I took some liberties with physics. I can't tell. I'm zooted as hell so expect errors. I'm floating.

Summary: Valentine’s Day was the one day a year where Terry gave you what you yearned for. To be in control. You tease Terry all day, getting him worked up with the knowledge that he couldn’t touch you yet. That he wasn’t allowed to touch your body until you said so. Not until he surrendered to you. 

Word Count: 3,189k

AO3 Link - will update when AO3 is back up.

A/N: I will not apologize for this one. You were warned. I had to change my own panties for this one. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

It was that time of the year. The most wonderful time of the year. The one day a year where Terry let you have precisely what you want. He always provided you with whatever you asked for, that wasn’t the point. This was at the top of your subby little wishlist. If you pleased him enough, he granted you what you really wanted. 

You hummed as you opened your legs and exposed your pussy to Terry. He currently knelt in the middle of the living room with his arms tied behind his back. He also wore a chest restraint because you loved how it criss-crossed against his smooth buttery skin. 

“Do you need a break, baby?” You asked. You tilted your head and pulled the green apple lollipop out of your mouth. You were leaning back on your elbows, looking at him over your tummy. 

Sweat poured down Terry’s face as his stormy eyes zeroed in on your pussy. Your clit throbbed, and the feeling of static peppered your brain. Looking into his eyes was like looking into the eyes of Egyption god Seth himself. A thunderstorm was behind those eyes. 

And right now he was so drunk with lust, he wasn’t thinking straight. He bared his teeth as if he really were a beast ready to devour its prey. 

You watched droplets of sweat pour down his bare chest, his heaving increasing. As if he still had the will and control to divide his attention. You leaned forward slowly until you flipped over and got on your stomach. 

The smooth rug glided across your skin and you moaned at the sensation on your nipples. Terry huffed a breath and you seductively trailed your eyes back to his. Back to the storm at sea rocking every piece of your boat. 

Your pussy throbbed once more at just the promise of your man finally relinquishing that steel control of his. Every day of the year, even on your birthday, he maintained all control once you stepped foot in the house. 

It got to the point that on the ride home, as Terry listened to you and you let go of all the stress, that your mind emptied out the more you did so. And the closer you got to the house. His influence grew stronger the longer you allowed yourself to just surrender. 

Surrender to every tone of his voice. Every bob of his beautiful neck. Every lick of his tongue across those big pink lips. He was your man and he knew exactly what you needed. To just shut the fuck up for once.

You got on your own damn nerves sometimes. But that evaporated once you were in the house and became a being. Someone so deep in your own body that it was akin to moonwalking. There was a heaviness in your body. A heaviness that you felt with every word that Terry spoke to you.

His power was so great that sometimes, all it took was one word from him to get you to snap to attention. Every word anchored you to your body. A body that belonged only and completely to him. 

You began to crawl towards him and Terry whimpered. You cooed at him. “Shh, shh, it’s okay baby. We’re almost there,” you said.

He only whimpered again as you got close enough to blow the scent of your lollipop in his face. 

“All you have to do is let go,” you whispered. You took the lollipop out of your mouth and then painted his lips with it. He didn’t lick it. Not yet. His eyes softened, turning pleading, as you leaned forward and kissed him. 

“Lick it up,” you commanded. 

Terry eagerly licked his lips, licking the flavor of your lollipop. “Did it taste good?” You asked. 

Terry shifted on his knees. It drew your eyes down lower than ever to see his heavy, thick dick tapping against his thigh. His heavy, swinging ballsack. Beads of pre-cum leaked out of him, slipping down the sides of his shaft. 

Fuck you were so fucking wet you were making your self crazy. Your pussy ached to be filled up by the only one who belonged there. The perfect fit for his monster. He had the nerve to be long and thick, veiny with a thick mushroom head. 

You moaned just thinking of it. Thinking of turning him loose and let him absolutely fucking destroy your pussy. Fuck you in the way that you deeply wanted to. Because every other day of the year, he maintained unbreakable control and you wanted him to snap. 

You tried everything to pry behind his need to always protect you. That he couldn’t let his guard down even while he was staking a claim in his pussy. You wanted to show him that it was okay when he got overly worried and needed a reminder that you were his.

That he sometimes got so worked up, imagining crazy ass scenarios in his mind. Or responding to totally innocent things like when other men asked you a question. In his mind, no one should ever address his lady. He wanted you in this soft, beautiful, quiet headspace twenty-four seven.

Or, at least when you were with him. Because your job needed the other side of you. The side that thinks too much and loves too much and does too much and leads too much, even when she didn’t want to. 

But fuck all that. You were here with the only man that you ever wanted to submit to and belong to. That his control was iron clad and you needed it like a plant needed the sun. You brought the lollipop back to your mouth and sucked on it loudly. 

“All you have to do is say the word,” you said. “Please? Daddy? Do it for me?” You asked. 

You were tempted to growl for not getting what you wanted. He only held on by seconds, because you happened to be sorta ovulating. And this year, to sweeten the deal, you told you him to breed the fuck out of you. 

Terry whimpered and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they took on a misty sheen. Your pussy ached. You were so damn close. 

But you held back from saying anything else. It had to be Terry’s choice. No more coercion. No more pushing. His suffering was up to him. 

His eyes welled with tears and it fell down his cheekbones like rain on a pane of glass. He sniffed one time and nodded. “Yeller,” Terry breathed. His lips quivered. 

“Chase me, Daddy,” you moaned. You threw the lollipop into a nearby open bag. You flipped around and got to your feet, making a beeline for your bedroom and your king sized bed. 

The snap of Terry’s restraints made you flinch as you already felt the weight of his presence breathing heavily on you. He was past his breaking point. He had finally, finally, caved in and let himself want it. 

His thunderous footsteps matched the beat of your heart as you gripped the threshold to the hallway and swing in the direction of your bedroom. You hopped on the bed just as Terry’s hand slammed angrily around the back of your neck. 

He groaned as he pushed the back of your knees to the edge of the bed and ground his dick into the crack of your ass. He slapped your right cheek, hard, the sting preceding behind the sound. You gasped and fell forward onto the bed.

He gripped his dick and slapped the engorged tip against your slit, wet smacks filling the steamy room. He didn’t wait for you to say anything or think anything or do anything other than take his dick inside you. 

To provide a wet, heated home for him to slide into. To allow him that glimpse of true peace. Just right inside your body. All his. 

You moaned as he entered you. You shook as he gripped your hips for stability. He started slow, just to get his dick soaking wet. On every deep slide he’d add more and more of your sweet cream on his dick. 

When he was slippery down to the base and he was able to slide with ease, the other side came out. He fucked you like he hated your guts. Like you stole something from him and he was was going to fuck it out of you. 

Every glide of his dick squelched loudly. Hearing you so wet for your man only fueled your desire. Sending a fresh wave of cream to coat Daddy’s dick. 

Terry grunted, moaned, as he pistoned in and out of your pussy like a jackhammer. You moaned and screamed like a slut while he tore your pussy up. 

The familiar bite of him stretching you past your limits. No matter how much he prepared you, no matter how many times you begged and pleaded while you rode his big Black dick, he was always a centimeter too thick. 

Your pussy pulsed, creaming more onto his dick. Your eyes finally lost the battle with trying to remain open. Your own body surrendered to the majesty of him. The unhinged, beast-like entity riding a man’s skin. His only soul destination was to get inside you as far as he could.

He slapped your ass. “Cum on that dick,” he ordered. His voice was gruff, animalistic. He slid his right hand against your spine, trailing those thick callused fingertips along the curve of your body. He buried his fingers into your nape, gathering up nearly all of your hair in one tight grip.

You hissed as Terry pulled your hair back and pulled your neck to the side. He bit into your neck and you moaned, whimpered. He let go and licked away the sting, licked up the drops of sweat leaking down your body. 

You came instantly, body completely under his control. You shook and shivered, both hot and cold, and your orgasm blasted through you. It was like being shot over and over again with pleasure as Daddy fucked you through it.

Your pussy gripped him tight, clinging to him, and he groaned, following close behind you. He paused and let you feel the pulse of his dick delivering steaming heaps of cum. Your pussy drank it greedily. Taking full advantage of the right week where your body was finally doing what it was created to do.

Your ovulating body was meant to accept his seed to grow a baby inside you. To plant a little girl or boy or they, or whoever it was as long as it was healthy. And beautiful just like him. You selfishly wanted a little boy first. So that Terry had that immediate connection to legacy. 

To the deep rooted male responsibility to carry on the name. To fulfill every father’s duty. Continue the line so that your blood lived through generation after generation. Just as your divine calling was written in the walls of your pussy, his were written in every one of his seeds making its way to your belly.

You were beyond ready. Praying for the day when the stars would align in your favor and delivered you his baby. To grow a shared heart between you and give it life.

Oh, your pussy quivered with another earth-shattering orgasm. You cried out. Called out Terry’s name, flooding his dick with your thick and creamy essence. 

Terry moved once more, the slop and slap of his dick swimming inside you, wriggling and pulsing reached your ears and you moaned. Your nails dug painfully into the comforter. Drool leaked down the side of your chin. 

You were absolutely nothing as he fucking you beyond all thought and reason. There were no more words to be said as Terry followed you into oblivion, stilling his hips so that you felt every pulsing throb deep in your pussy. He dropped more kids off, ensuring that if the first one didn’t do it, the second guaranteed it.

Drips of sweat rained down on your back and ass as Terry cursed low under his breath. “Fuck,” he moaned. 

You had made sure to tease him all day long, beginning a long and slow strip show split over hours. All day long, he was not able to fuck you or release himself. As each item of clothing was taken, Terry got more and more feral. His low, stormy eyes narrowed even further until he had sunk into some primal place. His nostrils would flare once you got down to your racy underwear. 

In the present, your pussy gushed with a fresh, unexpected orgasm at the memory of other times he bred you for fun. When he knew you weren’t going to get pregnant. He just liked seeing his dick throb as he filled you to the brim. 

Your pussy drank her fill of Terry’s cum, encouraging the kids to fight for a place in the world. You cried out, body shivering as if you were freezing cold. It was a random spasm that didn’t make any sense but zapped you enough to keep you awake. 

To keep you present. To make sure your spirit guided your future baby to your tummy. “That’s my Daddy,” you whined. 

Terry growled deep in his throat, increasing his thrusts. You huffed and cried, trying to escape. He slammed too well, too powerful, exploding inside of you with a deep, deep whimper. 

He tightened his hold on your hair, yanking to the point of true pain. He was testing you. Testing to see if you would say your safe work. You never have and you never will. 

You were never giving up the one word that made you weak. The one that made you truly pitiful. You wouldn’t break. You were made to take Daddy’s dick and that was what you wanted. What you craved. What you deserved. 

Terry slapped your ass and pulled you further back, your curves nearly touching his sweaty chest. But beads of sweat continued to drown you in his scent. Heat rolled off of him in waves.

“Cum on it again,” he demanded, dropping his lips to your ears. “Cum on it again. Cum on this dick. I know you want to.”

Oh god. His voice. So deep and powerful. So Big Daddy of him. That you came. Beckoned by the siren’s call of his deep baritone. It was rough with lust. Lust still. You lost count of how many orgasms you had or how many he had. You lost count of who went first and who went next. 

All you knew was that if you didn’t get pregnant tonight, then life was truly a simulation conspiring against you. Actively hating to see a cute bitch coming. And cuming. You moaned, thinking of how Terry’s new delivery of cum swam up into its forever home. Your pussy throbbed, aching with the fullness of him. Still amazingly rock hard through it all. 

Terry groaned, whined, getting heavier on top of you with every exhale through his body. His heavy balls slapped lewdly against your throbbing clit. His roaring huffs fanned across your body. “Protect my baby,” Terry whispered in your ear as he let go of your body. He let you flop to the bed like a used up doll he just nutted into. 

He collapsed onto your body, slamming you to the bed and buried you under the crushing weight of him. It was one of your favorite ways to be shoved back into your body. When you were spinning out, getting yourself worked up the more Valentine’s Day approached.

Head spinning and drunk with the gathering power lust, it was like you and Terry switched bodies for the night. To try out how the other side lived. To see how delicious it was to surrender and how exhilarating it was to wield power over someone you loved. Someone who trusted you completely to give them what they craved. What they needed to survive. 

Just one fucking moment to breathe and exist. Nothing else. 

Terry dropped onto you with a grunt and released his hold on your hair. Your eyes drooped closed, stuck in this position because Daddy said so. Because he had to make sure that at the end of the day, he was still under control. That at any moment, he could always snatch it back. That it was always his choice to let a gasket slip loose and know that you would be okay. That you could take it. 

“There’s my baby,” Terry whispered sleepily against your cheek. His dick twitched in your pussy. He was going to make sure he was buried to keep you plugged up. But you both knew you couldn’t truly stay like this forever. 

You and Terry fell into a light, airy nap. Where your consciousness still swam but you were aware of your man randomly twitching in your pussy. Like his body was sucking back all of the dominance you borrowed for the night. 

You drifted right on down to subtown while Terry gently slipped out of you. His cum pushed out with a weak moan from your dry mouth. He helped you climb further onto the bed, and then disappeared. He returned with a warm wet rag and cleaned between your legs. He rubbed the rough cloth between your pussy lips and you wiggled your ass, moaning. 

“Flip over,” he said. You struggled but you managed to flip over so that he could climb onto the bed beside you. He discarded the towel somewhere and then slid his body until he was able to line his head with your titties and his hands gripped your fupa. 

He kneaded and molded your tummy, pressing down to massage and help his seed stake a claim. Your pussy ached for entirely different reasons. 

Terry kissed your titty, absently drawing your nipple into his mouth from the side. “I went pretty rough, baby. You’re not ready for any more tonight,” he said. 

You whined softly, consciousness absolutely floating in a calm lake of peace. You were incredibly sore. Terry nearly destroyed your pussy, knowing his own strength. Knowing when enough was enough.

But you knew that you didn’t have an off switch when it came to him. You would take it all, take it until you couldn’t scream. Couldn’t breathe. 

“Shhh, don’t get yourself worked up. Daddy’s here to take over. Go on and lay that pretty head down,” his voice rumbled in your ear like thunder. 

Your mind swam, wanting to stay with him but knowing that your body needed rest. That he had to do his work now. Your work would begin on the other side. Carrying the little stinka for months. You couldn’t wait to meet your potato. 

“C’mon. You’re doing well. Don’t brat out. Listen to Daddy,” he said and sucked sharply on your titty. 

You hissed and then finally disappeared between the seams of the universe. Where you touched home deep within your soul because Terry was in control now. And he always took care of his baby. 

There's more Terry! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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

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[yaachtynoboat711]

You, ma’am, are fucking disgusting, and I love it.

Hey girl hey. I want to request a fix (I know you have a lot but) Terry has the intention of becoming a father and getting the reader pregnant the nastiest way he knows how to. The girliest smut if you will🫣. Love your writing pookie

A/N: Be very, very careful when and where you open this. I'm so serious. Be honest.

Savage

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, dirty talk, the exploration of femininity in relation to masculinity, heavy binary language used, allusions to Christian themes. Submissive Terry as in a guard dog is submissive. Dom Reader as in brats intentionally to break Terry. PIV, PORN, breeding kink on cocaine, Daddy!Terry, pussy lust Terry, use of pet names (Daddy and baby) I took some liberties with physics. I can't tell. I'm zooted as hell so expect errors. I'm floating.

Summary: Valentine’s Day was the one day a year where Terry gave you what you yearned for. To be in control. You tease Terry all day, getting him worked up with the knowledge that he couldn’t touch you yet. That he wasn’t allowed to touch your body until you said so. Not until he surrendered to you. 

Word Count: 3,189k

AO3 Link - will update when AO3 is back up.

A/N: I will not apologize for this one. You were warned. I had to change my own panties for this one. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

It was that time of the year. The most wonderful time of the year. The one day a year where Terry let you have precisely what you want. He always provided you with whatever you asked for, that wasn’t the point. This was at the top of your subby little wishlist. If you pleased him enough, he granted you what you really wanted. 

You hummed as you opened your legs and exposed your pussy to Terry. He currently knelt in the middle of the living room with his arms tied behind his back. He also wore a chest restraint because you loved how it criss-crossed against his smooth buttery skin. 

“Do you need a break, baby?” You asked. You tilted your head and pulled the green apple lollipop out of your mouth. You were leaning back on your elbows, looking at him over your tummy. 

Sweat poured down Terry’s face as his stormy eyes zeroed in on your pussy. Your clit throbbed, and the feeling of static peppered your brain. Looking into his eyes was like looking into the eyes of Egyption god Seth himself. A thunderstorm was behind those eyes. 

And right now he was so drunk with lust, he wasn’t thinking straight. He bared his teeth as if he really were a beast ready to devour its prey. 

You watched droplets of sweat pour down his bare chest, his heaving increasing. As if he still had the will and control to divide his attention. You leaned forward slowly until you flipped over and got on your stomach. 

The smooth rug glided across your skin and you moaned at the sensation on your nipples. Terry huffed a breath and you seductively trailed your eyes back to his. Back to the storm at sea rocking every piece of your boat. 

Your pussy throbbed once more at just the promise of your man finally relinquishing that steel control of his. Every day of the year, even on your birthday, he maintained all control once you stepped foot in the house. 

It got to the point that on the ride home, as Terry listened to you and you let go of all the stress, that your mind emptied out the more you did so. And the closer you got to the house. His influence grew stronger the longer you allowed yourself to just surrender. 

Surrender to every tone of his voice. Every bob of his beautiful neck. Every lick of his tongue across those big pink lips. He was your man and he knew exactly what you needed. To just shut the fuck up for once.

You got on your own damn nerves sometimes. But that evaporated once you were in the house and became a being. Someone so deep in your own body that it was akin to moonwalking. There was a heaviness in your body. A heaviness that you felt with every word that Terry spoke to you.

His power was so great that sometimes, all it took was one word from him to get you to snap to attention. Every word anchored you to your body. A body that belonged only and completely to him. 

You began to crawl towards him and Terry whimpered. You cooed at him. “Shh, shh, it’s okay baby. We’re almost there,” you said.

He only whimpered again as you got close enough to blow the scent of your lollipop in his face. 

“All you have to do is let go,” you whispered. You took the lollipop out of your mouth and then painted his lips with it. He didn’t lick it. Not yet. His eyes softened, turning pleading, as you leaned forward and kissed him. 

“Lick it up,” you commanded. 

Terry eagerly licked his lips, licking the flavor of your lollipop. “Did it taste good?” You asked. 

Terry shifted on his knees. It drew your eyes down lower than ever to see his heavy, thick dick tapping against his thigh. His heavy, swinging ballsack. Beads of pre-cum leaked out of him, slipping down the sides of his shaft. 

Fuck you were so fucking wet you were making your self crazy. Your pussy ached to be filled up by the only one who belonged there. The perfect fit for his monster. He had the nerve to be long and thick, veiny with a thick mushroom head. 

You moaned just thinking of it. Thinking of turning him loose and let him absolutely fucking destroy your pussy. Fuck you in the way that you deeply wanted to. Because every other day of the year, he maintained unbreakable control and you wanted him to snap. 

You tried everything to pry behind his need to always protect you. That he couldn’t let his guard down even while he was staking a claim in his pussy. You wanted to show him that it was okay when he got overly worried and needed a reminder that you were his.

That he sometimes got so worked up, imagining crazy ass scenarios in his mind. Or responding to totally innocent things like when other men asked you a question. In his mind, no one should ever address his lady. He wanted you in this soft, beautiful, quiet headspace twenty-four seven.

Or, at least when you were with him. Because your job needed the other side of you. The side that thinks too much and loves too much and does too much and leads too much, even when she didn’t want to. 

But fuck all that. You were here with the only man that you ever wanted to submit to and belong to. That his control was iron clad and you needed it like a plant needed the sun. You brought the lollipop back to your mouth and sucked on it loudly. 

“All you have to do is say the word,” you said. “Please? Daddy? Do it for me?” You asked. 

You were tempted to growl for not getting what you wanted. He only held on by seconds, because you happened to be sorta ovulating. And this year, to sweeten the deal, you told you him to breed the fuck out of you. 

Terry whimpered and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they took on a misty sheen. Your pussy ached. You were so damn close. 

But you held back from saying anything else. It had to be Terry’s choice. No more coercion. No more pushing. His suffering was up to him. 

His eyes welled with tears and it fell down his cheekbones like rain on a pane of glass. He sniffed one time and nodded. “Yeller,” Terry breathed. His lips quivered. 

“Chase me, Daddy,” you moaned. You threw the lollipop into a nearby open bag. You flipped around and got to your feet, making a beeline for your bedroom and your king sized bed. 

The snap of Terry’s restraints made you flinch as you already felt the weight of his presence breathing heavily on you. He was past his breaking point. He had finally, finally, caved in and let himself want it. 

His thunderous footsteps matched the beat of your heart as you gripped the threshold to the hallway and swing in the direction of your bedroom. You hopped on the bed just as Terry’s hand slammed angrily around the back of your neck. 

He groaned as he pushed the back of your knees to the edge of the bed and ground his dick into the crack of your ass. He slapped your right cheek, hard, the sting preceding behind the sound. You gasped and fell forward onto the bed.

He gripped his dick and slapped the engorged tip against your slit, wet smacks filling the steamy room. He didn’t wait for you to say anything or think anything or do anything other than take his dick inside you. 

To provide a wet, heated home for him to slide into. To allow him that glimpse of true peace. Just right inside your body. All his. 

You moaned as he entered you. You shook as he gripped your hips for stability. He started slow, just to get his dick soaking wet. On every deep slide he’d add more and more of your sweet cream on his dick. 

When he was slippery down to the base and he was able to slide with ease, the other side came out. He fucked you like he hated your guts. Like you stole something from him and he was was going to fuck it out of you. 

Every glide of his dick squelched loudly. Hearing you so wet for your man only fueled your desire. Sending a fresh wave of cream to coat Daddy’s dick. 

Terry grunted, moaned, as he pistoned in and out of your pussy like a jackhammer. You moaned and screamed like a slut while he tore your pussy up. 

The familiar bite of him stretching you past your limits. No matter how much he prepared you, no matter how many times you begged and pleaded while you rode his big Black dick, he was always a centimeter too thick. 

Your pussy pulsed, creaming more onto his dick. Your eyes finally lost the battle with trying to remain open. Your own body surrendered to the majesty of him. The unhinged, beast-like entity riding a man’s skin. His only soul destination was to get inside you as far as he could.

He slapped your ass. “Cum on that dick,” he ordered. His voice was gruff, animalistic. He slid his right hand against your spine, trailing those thick callused fingertips along the curve of your body. He buried his fingers into your nape, gathering up nearly all of your hair in one tight grip.

You hissed as Terry pulled your hair back and pulled your neck to the side. He bit into your neck and you moaned, whimpered. He let go and licked away the sting, licked up the drops of sweat leaking down your body. 

You came instantly, body completely under his control. You shook and shivered, both hot and cold, and your orgasm blasted through you. It was like being shot over and over again with pleasure as Daddy fucked you through it.

Your pussy gripped him tight, clinging to him, and he groaned, following close behind you. He paused and let you feel the pulse of his dick delivering steaming heaps of cum. Your pussy drank it greedily. Taking full advantage of the right week where your body was finally doing what it was created to do.

Your ovulating body was meant to accept his seed to grow a baby inside you. To plant a little girl or boy or they, or whoever it was as long as it was healthy. And beautiful just like him. You selfishly wanted a little boy first. So that Terry had that immediate connection to legacy. 

To the deep rooted male responsibility to carry on the name. To fulfill every father’s duty. Continue the line so that your blood lived through generation after generation. Just as your divine calling was written in the walls of your pussy, his were written in every one of his seeds making its way to your belly.

You were beyond ready. Praying for the day when the stars would align in your favor and delivered you his baby. To grow a shared heart between you and give it life.

Oh, your pussy quivered with another earth-shattering orgasm. You cried out. Called out Terry’s name, flooding his dick with your thick and creamy essence. 

Terry moved once more, the slop and slap of his dick swimming inside you, wriggling and pulsing reached your ears and you moaned. Your nails dug painfully into the comforter. Drool leaked down the side of your chin. 

You were absolutely nothing as he fucking you beyond all thought and reason. There were no more words to be said as Terry followed you into oblivion, stilling his hips so that you felt every pulsing throb deep in your pussy. He dropped more kids off, ensuring that if the first one didn’t do it, the second guaranteed it.

Drips of sweat rained down on your back and ass as Terry cursed low under his breath. “Fuck,” he moaned. 

You had made sure to tease him all day long, beginning a long and slow strip show split over hours. All day long, he was not able to fuck you or release himself. As each item of clothing was taken, Terry got more and more feral. His low, stormy eyes narrowed even further until he had sunk into some primal place. His nostrils would flare once you got down to your racy underwear. 

In the present, your pussy gushed with a fresh, unexpected orgasm at the memory of other times he bred you for fun. When he knew you weren’t going to get pregnant. He just liked seeing his dick throb as he filled you to the brim. 

Your pussy drank her fill of Terry’s cum, encouraging the kids to fight for a place in the world. You cried out, body shivering as if you were freezing cold. It was a random spasm that didn’t make any sense but zapped you enough to keep you awake. 

To keep you present. To make sure your spirit guided your future baby to your tummy. “That’s my Daddy,” you whined. 

Terry growled deep in his throat, increasing his thrusts. You huffed and cried, trying to escape. He slammed too well, too powerful, exploding inside of you with a deep, deep whimper. 

He tightened his hold on your hair, yanking to the point of true pain. He was testing you. Testing to see if you would say your safe work. You never have and you never will. 

You were never giving up the one word that made you weak. The one that made you truly pitiful. You wouldn’t break. You were made to take Daddy’s dick and that was what you wanted. What you craved. What you deserved. 

Terry slapped your ass and pulled you further back, your curves nearly touching his sweaty chest. But beads of sweat continued to drown you in his scent. Heat rolled off of him in waves.

“Cum on it again,” he demanded, dropping his lips to your ears. “Cum on it again. Cum on this dick. I know you want to.”

Oh god. His voice. So deep and powerful. So Big Daddy of him. That you came. Beckoned by the siren’s call of his deep baritone. It was rough with lust. Lust still. You lost count of how many orgasms you had or how many he had. You lost count of who went first and who went next. 

All you knew was that if you didn’t get pregnant tonight, then life was truly a simulation conspiring against you. Actively hating to see a cute bitch coming. And cuming. You moaned, thinking of how Terry’s new delivery of cum swam up into its forever home. Your pussy throbbed, aching with the fullness of him. Still amazingly rock hard through it all. 

Terry groaned, whined, getting heavier on top of you with every exhale through his body. His heavy balls slapped lewdly against your throbbing clit. His roaring huffs fanned across your body. “Protect my baby,” Terry whispered in your ear as he let go of your body. He let you flop to the bed like a used up doll he just nutted into. 

He collapsed onto your body, slamming you to the bed and buried you under the crushing weight of him. It was one of your favorite ways to be shoved back into your body. When you were spinning out, getting yourself worked up the more Valentine’s Day approached.

Head spinning and drunk with the gathering power lust, it was like you and Terry switched bodies for the night. To try out how the other side lived. To see how delicious it was to surrender and how exhilarating it was to wield power over someone you loved. Someone who trusted you completely to give them what they craved. What they needed to survive. 

Just one fucking moment to breathe and exist. Nothing else. 

Terry dropped onto you with a grunt and released his hold on your hair. Your eyes drooped closed, stuck in this position because Daddy said so. Because he had to make sure that at the end of the day, he was still under control. That at any moment, he could always snatch it back. That it was always his choice to let a gasket slip loose and know that you would be okay. That you could take it. 

“There’s my baby,” Terry whispered sleepily against your cheek. His dick twitched in your pussy. He was going to make sure he was buried to keep you plugged up. But you both knew you couldn’t truly stay like this forever. 

You and Terry fell into a light, airy nap. Where your consciousness still swam but you were aware of your man randomly twitching in your pussy. Like his body was sucking back all of the dominance you borrowed for the night. 

You drifted right on down to subtown while Terry gently slipped out of you. His cum pushed out with a weak moan from your dry mouth. He helped you climb further onto the bed, and then disappeared. He returned with a warm wet rag and cleaned between your legs. He rubbed the rough cloth between your pussy lips and you wiggled your ass, moaning. 

“Flip over,” he said. You struggled but you managed to flip over so that he could climb onto the bed beside you. He discarded the towel somewhere and then slid his body until he was able to line his head with your titties and his hands gripped your fupa. 

He kneaded and molded your tummy, pressing down to massage and help his seed stake a claim. Your pussy ached for entirely different reasons. 

Terry kissed your titty, absently drawing your nipple into his mouth from the side. “I went pretty rough, baby. You’re not ready for any more tonight,” he said. 

You whined softly, consciousness absolutely floating in a calm lake of peace. You were incredibly sore. Terry nearly destroyed your pussy, knowing his own strength. Knowing when enough was enough.

But you knew that you didn’t have an off switch when it came to him. You would take it all, take it until you couldn’t scream. Couldn’t breathe. 

“Shhh, don’t get yourself worked up. Daddy’s here to take over. Go on and lay that pretty head down,” his voice rumbled in your ear like thunder. 

Your mind swam, wanting to stay with him but knowing that your body needed rest. That he had to do his work now. Your work would begin on the other side. Carrying the little stinka for months. You couldn’t wait to meet your potato. 

“C’mon. You’re doing well. Don’t brat out. Listen to Daddy,” he said and sucked sharply on your titty. 

You hissed and then finally disappeared between the seams of the universe. Where you touched home deep within your soul because Terry was in control now. And he always took care of his baby. 

There's more Terry! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

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[yaachtynoboat711]

fanfiction truly being the savior for everyones sanity

[yaachtynoboat711]

slow dancing with terry richmond in the kitchen after he comes home from a long day at work. he'd been counting down the hours until he could get home to see you and finally hold you in his arms.

before he even opened the door, he could hear music flowing from your shared home, and the sound of you singing along softly put an immediate smile on his face. your sweet voice warmed him up despite the frigid winter air that was chilling him to the bone.

terry unlocked the door as quietly as he could, stepping into the house softly and kicking off his shoes before making his way the the kitchen to find you preparing dinner, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing your arm to wrap around his neck just as you had turned around to pour yourself another glass of wine.

"well, hello, mr. richmond," you greet as a smile grows on your face, cheeks growing warm at being caught by surprise.

"hello to you as well, mrs, richmond."

you lean up to press a kiss to his lips as the two of you sway back and forth and he's sure that this is the most peace he's ever had in all his years.

the two of you don't share any more words, the music speaking for itself. you simply danced together, terry pulling a loud laugh from you by twirling you around and dipping you.

terry's pretty sure it's impossible for anything to be better than this and he whines when you have to pull away because the oven timer goes off and the rolls you baked will be quick to burn if you don't get to them.

"let them burn," he mumbles, bringing his face down to your neck as he pulls you closer to him with one hand on your back and his other arm still firm around your waist.

"they took way too long to prep. i have to grab them."

he lets you go with a huff and watches as you bend over to take them out of the oven. he takes you in, the long dress you wore hugging the soft, plush curves of your body just right and that shade of red on your brown skin always made his heart flutter. your hair was pulled out of your face in a half-up style that you'd accessorized with a butterfly claw clip. you were simply gorgeous. if he could turn back time and do it all again, he'd make sure you were the one he came home to in every lifetime.

"go shower, mr. richmond. you smell like the outdoors," you tell him, the feeling of his eyes on you beginning to make you nervous even after all these years.

"will you dance with me again when i'm clean?" he questions.

"of course."

he only hums in response, taking one last glance at his precious wife before going upstairs to shower as quickly as possible so that he could get back to you.

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

a/n: little fluffy drabble i wrote while listening to sam cooke when i was supposed to be writing an essay

terry taglist: @writingsbytee @brattyfics @planetblaque @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @ovohanna24 @idkaskuzi @luvrsluxe @theogbadbitch @blackmoonchilee @secretlifeoofmarpessa @fairy-cores-world @kumkaniudaku @blackpinup22 @ranikyani @rose-blisse-blog @gigi-trini @blackerthings @mightbeher @phuckyoreblogs @kirayuki22 @shiania @rawflwrs @jessicapaigeee @venusincleo @notapradagurl7 @sweethoneycream @neteyamstiyawn @piscesdashcam @ticalsstallion @disc0fairy @favafricanaunty @nubiagurllll @becauseimswagman1 @kaylalb @onherereading @nayaesworld @bigjuiciisushii @goldenjasssy @lovedlover @mitruscity @yourstru1y444 @dabratzchronicles

[yaachtynoboat711]

Familiar [M] Prologue

tw: references to porn & masturbation (f), swearing, drug paraphernalia

Saturday 1:00AM

Kendall blacked out as her body convulsed over her freshly washed comforter, acrylic toes curling and thighs clamping around the pink rose toy tucked in her palm. Her phone? Probably somewhere across the bed as she lost her grip on it to mewl and pant into the cold air of her room. Every other night for the past two weeks and counting, the twenty eight year old found herself in the same position: restless and horny out of her mind with no one there to put her to sleep. Her friends were right she needed a new man - more specifically - some new dick in her life, but she was too damn busy with work and kicking her stupid ass ex to the curb to get it.

So, it led to this - spending nights alone in her apartment masturbating to porn on Twitter

At least the guy she got off to was hot, well from below the neck he was anyway - his username was scvrlord and he never showed his face full online. As much as she frequented his page Kendall knew his half naked body from a mile away: a painfully thick frame accented with toasty skin, the aforementioned surgical scar running the length of his torso, and a delicately done black and grey sleeve trailing the exterior of left arm.

When it came to size, he wasn’t monsterish like his costars, but thick enough to make anyone squirm - simply put with the way he moved, he would leave even the most experienced performers seeing stars, shaking and bottomed out. Besides the physical, his voice was a deep baritone that softly rose every now and then when the sex he was having was amazing.

Something Kendall personally adored about him was his rarely seen and rather deadly set of eyes rimmed in thick lashes; his iris’s never quite settling on a color they bounced from a warm hazel to deep shade of blue, complimenting whatever color balaclava mask he donned for the evening.

Kendall knew it was entirely stupid to have a crush on someone she'd never met, especially a porn star with hundreds of thousands of followers, but something about him - even his tweets in between the back to back smut - reeled her in.

Whether he posted cellphone videos of him getting head or angled flicks of him dicking down a girl in his living room, Kendall found herself enamored by him and the spontaneous sex life he had. Maybe if she had someone like him in her life she wouldn't be as stressed about half the shit she was now.

A girl could only dream.

Right?

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Monday 11:40PM

"Yes I turned those files in yesterday, they should all be in the OneDrive link I sent you. No you don't need a password... yes - I double checked this time, so it should open up fine." Kendall uttered as she clicked down the foyer. If it wasn't her boss driving her up the wall at work, it was her fellow co-worker Jackson. He never stayed out of her hair and insisted on contacting her over the most minuscule things. It was mainly because he wanted to fuck and his advances in the office weren't getting him anywhere but back to his cubicle - alone.

On this lovely night it was nearing 12 in the morning and his pestering had yet to cease from the time Kendall had clocked in that morning.

"Jackson I'm about to get in the elevator and my signal is gonna go out, I'll call you when I get in okay?"

"Ah forreal? Aight, bet."

"It's not like that," she sneered, "this is corporate business remember?"

"Yeah yeah ye-"

She hit end and pretended that her signal had gone out when in reality she had four full bars. The elevator door pinged open and to her surprise someone else was inside. Inhaling deeply she slid in across from the stranger, keeping her eyes glued to a new text message from an unblocked number that slid across her screen. It was like all the annoying ass niggas wanted to get on her nerves tonight.

I know you up right now. When you gone let me get the rest of my stuff??

"What fucking stuff?" she thought out loud, pressing number 15 on the lift and watching the doors close back. Devin had gotten kicked out of her crib over a month ago, and for whatever reason he insisted accusing her of having his stuff hidden away. A loud hiss escaped her lips as she rapidly clicked out a reply.

Idk wtf you on about but I can promise you ain’t shit of yours here. Whatever I didn’t put on the curb prolly somewhere in Alabama rn, check Craigslist and block this number💯

Before she could end her text with a hearty ‘fuck off’, her screen cut to calling and Devins new number flooded the screen. Kendall softly thudded her head off the elevator wall and audibly deep sighed for the millionth time that day.

"Can a bitch catch a break? Goddamn." she said aloud, prompting the stranger next to her to let out a deep chuckle. It made her ears perk up and her body freeze a little. The laugh was familiar, one she'd heard way too many times before to not know.

'There's no way in hell...No. You just bugging out right now.' Thought Kendall.

To her relief the lift promptly stopped on 15, and she made no hesitation to get out and beeline to her apartment. As she stepped out, however, her keys hit the elevator floor and landed by the strangers foot. Before she could fully whip around and snatch them up, he’d already beat her to it, her eyes making a deathly slow trail from the floor to the hand holding her hot pink key ring.

Kendall’s heart went straight to her ass as she caught a full view of who she'd been standing next to.

He had the same tatts, the same voice, the same eyes.

"Here you go."

"Oh shit - thank you. Have a nice night."

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

When Kendall got inside her apartment, she let out a loud expletive-filled exhale and contemplated running straight for her room. Either she was losing her mind or fate was one hell of a thing. She knew she couldn't do it - whatever it was – sober, so she grabbed a bottle of Patron off of her kitchen counter and mixed the strongest margarita she could muster. After half an hour of contemplation and small sips of tequila Kendall finally caved in and headed to her room. Her heart was thumping out of her chest as she logged in and clicked on the profile she'd often visit. In a blind rush she navigated her way to his DM's and felt her heart skip a beat as the small dot next to his picture was green - he was awake and online, probably uploading a new video given the time.

"Don't be a pussy Ken, you already here." She mumbled

Before she could fully chicken out the liquor kicked in and forced her fingers to type.

k3nlaflair: you live in Av. 76?

…

…

k3nlaflair: I think I just ran into you.

k3nlaflair: on the elevator

…

scvrlord: oh shit, that was you?

Bingo. She held back a scream and composed herself as she thought of a decent reply back.

k3nlaflair: this is mad weird lol sorry

scvrlord: nah baby you good, you beautiful btw.

…

k3nlaflair: 🫠 thank you

k3nlaflair: and sorry for bothering you so late, this is crazyyyy lol thanks for the save

scvrlord: nah you good I promise

scvrlord: rs you the first person my age I’ve seen since I moved 😂

k3nlaflair: yeahh Av. is a nursing home if you squint hard enough lol they don’t really tell they yuppies about it either.

scvrlord: I def see now. since ion really know anybody around here you down to grab lunch this weekend? on me.

Kendall couldn't believe her eyes. Not only was this man living in the same building as her, he was now casually asking her out for a chat. If she fumbled this her friend group would never let her live this down. Heart fluttering, she quickly tapped away at her keyboard and blindly hit send.

k3nlaflair: I know a chill spot in K-town that’s real lowkey. foods to die for and the drinks are stiff as you can get lol!

scvrlord: bet. meet at mine Friday night. that cool?

k3nlaflair: bet.

Kendall was every bit of speechless. This was the clutch of the year - no the century - all thanks to her shitty roster and butter fingers. As she reread her final three letter text for the hundredth time in those fleeting minutes, a sheepish grin curled across her face.

‘Kendall: 1, Devin: 0’

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

first and foremost big thank you to the gang for inspiring (and gently bullying me) to get back in the writing field again, love y’all downnn 😭🫡

pls don’t be shy to leave a comment, suggestions for part one, whatever you like my friends 🫶🏽 see you in the next one

TAGS: @kimuzostar @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @yassbishimvintage @melaninpov @planetblaque @jenlovey @ranikyani

[yaachtynoboat711]

SUPPORT BLACK FANFIC WRITERS GODDAMIT!!!

Here’s my masterlist! It’s a little pitiful bc writers bloc, but we ball 😭😭😭

Black Fanfiction Writers, post your Masterlists for Black History Month! Give the community good stuff to read!

Add your Masterlist of stories centering Black Characters! Please share with your writing mutuals! I'll start with mine!

[yaachtynoboat711]

Oh bihhhhhh, I need a sequel!

hot for teacher (pt. 1)

summary: terry's daughter has been raising concerns for her teacher, prompting a parent-teacher conference and a potential match for her father.

pairing: terry richmond x black!fem!reader

warnings: 18+ (mdni), language, smut (male masturbation)

a/n: this is going to be a series. part one hasn't been fully edited, so if u see a typo just ignore for now lol. i hope you guys enjoy and reply "🤎" if you'd like to be on my aaron fics taglist if you aren't on it already!

ao3 link

You inhaled deeply, nerves all over the place as you waited for the arrival of Thalia's father. The anxiety you felt in your chest and stomach wasn't just the result of this being your first parent-teacher conference of the school year. With every new group of kids, you were always nervous about dealing with their parents as you never knew which parents would be accommodating and which ones would be first class pains in your ass, but this meeting in particular had you on edge.

Thalia's father was no stranger to you...partially. You'd met him once on a girl's night a few weeks before the school year started. That meeting at the club turned into a sexy, sweaty, and passionate one night stand that seemed impossible for you to forget about no matter how hard you tried. He was tall, handsome, charming, and willing to put his card down to buy your girlfriends a few rounds. It also didn't help that he was so damn funny, so he was able to laugh you out of your panties in no time.

The morning after, the two of you went to brunch. You'd talked for hours and you found yourself entranced by the man. It seemed that the interest was mutual, but he'd stood you up on a date that the two of you had planned and you hadn't spoken to him since. You were hurt because it seemed like the two of you had clicked, but you eventually chalked it up to you being delusional. You let the situation go...sort of. Of course, you'd googled him in an attempt to find any social media he had, but all you could find were business profiles on LinkedIn and Indeed. The shock on your face when you looked at your class roster in the beginning of August and saw the contact information for Thalia's parent was truly priceless.

"Do you know when my daddy is coming to get me?"

You were broken from your panicked thoughts by Thalia's whine. Her dad called the school in advance to ask if she could stay since he wouldn't be able to get off of work in time to pick her up. Since he would be coming for the meeting anyway the principal decided that she could stay. However, she'd gotten bored sitting in the front office and begged to go back to your classroom, which surprised you because you could have sworn the girl couldn't stand you by the way she behaved in class some days.

"He should be here soon, Thalia. I'll just have to have a short chat with him and then you get to go home," you replied, using the soft second grade teacher voice that had become a second nature at this point.

"Am I in trouble?" she questioned, her eyebrows raising as her eyes widened in panic.

Thalia was very smart and a real overachiever. Her record showed no disciplinary action in the past, so you knew the idea of being in trouble was just terrifying to her. She was basically the "perfect" student with the exception that you just couldn't get her to be more engaged with you or her other classmates during class time. It was as if she shut down until test days.

"No, you're not in trouble, I promise," you told her. "I just have a few questions to ask him. That's all. Do you maybe want to do something while we wait? Read a book, play with the building blocks?"

Thalia sighed and shook her head, uninterested in doing either.

"Not really. I think I just want to go home."

You nodded, heart aching for her. You remembered what it was like to be stuck at school while your parents were at work. You were usually the last kid waiting and had nothing to do.

"Do you mind if I grade papers while we wait for your dad?" you asked her.

Her eyebrow raised, seeming interested in that.

"Can I help?"

You thought about telling her that it was out of the question and that she couldn't see the grades of her classmates, but you didn't have the heart to shut her down when this is one of the only things she's shown interest in the entire school year so far.

"Here," you said, pulling out a stack of papers from one of the folders you kept on your desk. "This is the answer sheet. When I call out the question number, you tell me the correct answer, okay?"

She nodded eagerly and stood from the table she was sitting at, practically running up to your desk to take the answer key from you.

"You ready?" you asked her, pulling out your color coded pens for grading.

"Yes, ma'am!"

You couldn't help but smile before you looked at the first test, glad that something finally caught her attention.

"Okay, what's number one?"

"15."

You went through the stack of tests, correcting answers and giving checkmarks for correct work before asking for the answer to the next question. These were all problems that you could solve with your eyes closed and you didn't really need an answer key, but as long as she was happy and occupied, you had no problem letting her help you out.

The process took about fifteen minutes, which was perfect timing. As soon as you were finished, a dial from the office came across the intercom.

"Thalia Richmond's dad is in the office. Should we send him back to you?"

You felt your face go numb in dread, which was an almost comical contrast to the way Thalia giggled and jumped to grab her backpack at the news.

"Yes, please," you responded on the intercom.

"He's here! My daddy's here!" Thalia squealed, running to the door to wait for him.

It wasn't long before there was a knock on the classroom door and Thalia swung it open to jump in her father's arms.

"Where have you been, Daddy? I was so booreddd!"

He laughed at her antics, not yet noticing you at your desk.

"I had to work, Lia," he responded, kissing her on the cheek.

"You need to stop working!"

"If I stop working, I can't get you all those books, huh?"

She laughed when he poked her side and you felt a smile growing on your face at the scene. You almost forgot about your history with her dad. Almost. It was brought back immediately when he finally looked over at you, hazel eyes staring at you as if he'd seen a ghost. You felt your heart sink at the look of horror he gave you.

"Lia, why don't you go sit in the office for a bit?" he told her, not taking his eyes off of you.

"But, Daddy I don't wanna go in there. It's so boring," she pouted.

"Just for a little bit. I'll be up there soon," he promised, setting her down and opening the door for her to walk out.

You turned behind you, grabbing the wall phone and dialing the office before letting them know that Thalia was on her way up to them.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you, neither of you quite sure if you should jump straight to business or talk about the enormous elephant in the room. Finally, you cleared your throat, deciding to be the one to speak first.

"Mr. Richmond, thanks for coming."

"You're Thalia's teacher?"

The two of you spoke at the same time, which only added another layer to the thick tension and awkwardness in the room. You shifted uncomfortably in your desk chair and asked God why this had to be happening to you.

"Uh, yes. I am," you responded. "Please sit. I just have a few concerns about Thalia."

You decided that ignoring the elephant would be easiest, finding it inappropriate to talk about the fact that he did some things to your body that night that you're not sure you'll ever be able to repeat.

"Like?" he asked, grabbing a chair from one of the tables and sitting in front of your desk.

If this were any other parent, you would have probably laughed and made a joke about how small the chairs are, but there was truly nothing funny about the situation that you'd found yourself in.

"Thalia doesn't seem interested in...well anything," you told him, jumping straight to the chase and hoping that this interaction would take no longer than ten minutes (seven if you spoke fast enough).

He was avoiding eye contact with you, looking over your shoulder at the rainbow calendar on the wall. You were sure that if you turned around you'd see that he'd burned a hole straight through the wall and given you a view into the next classroom from how hard he was staring.

"What do you mean?" he questioned. "She performs very well academically."

You nodded in agreement.

"Yes, she does. She's truly one of my best students, but I'm worried about her engagement with others. She doesn't talk to her other classmates, doesn't play with others during recess, sits alone during lunch, and barely responds to me when I ask her questions. It seems like nothing I do to help works. I was just wondering if you knew of any ways to get her more engaged."

His eyes snapped to you then, the thousand yard stare he'd been giving shifting to a look of concern.

"Strange," he sighed. "She's told me that she's made so many friends in second grade."

"What does she like to do at home? Maybe I could use it to get her a little more involved in class."

He ran a large hand over his face and you had to push out images of that same hand wrapped around your throat and of his fingers pushing past your soft lips.

"She likes music, um art. She's been really big on painting recently. She loves plants and space and princesses," he replied, a smile on his lips as he remembered these things about his daughter. "Are you sure? It just doesn't sound like her."

"I'm sure. Could I ask for your help in figuring it out? I mean, you know her better than anyone else. I can try with the things you just told me and as you figure out the rest, just keep me updated on what I can do to help?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, I can do that."

"Great!" you responded. "That's all, but I can give you her folder."

You stood, walking across the room to where you kept the student folders with all the work they've done recently. His eyes followed you over there, dragging up your body as you searched for Thalia's folder.

He was attempting to push out the way your skin felt against his fingertips and the way you'd wrapped around him, clinging to him for dear life as if he were the only thing that had mattered in the world, but the memories just kept flooding in. He felt guilty about the fact that he was sitting in a tiny chair in his daughter's second grade classroom as he grew hard looking at her teacher.

You finally found her folder after searching for her name, the feeling of his eyes on you making you uneasy while simultaneously making a heat grow between your legs.

"Here you go," you told him. "I usually wait until the end of the week to send them home, but since you're already here..."

"Thanks," he responded, standing in front of you.

You had almost forgotten how damn tall he was and it only heightened the feeling between your legs as you remembered the way he looked down at you with a strong grip on your jaw that night.

The two of you stood in front of each other silently. You breathed in the scent of his cologne and felt your knees weakening from it. It was woody and expensive and you wanted to drown in the smell. You finally took a step back to get yourself together.

"Are you okay with this? Me coming to the school because I could always call her mom-"

"We don't have to talk about it, Mr. Richmond."

"Terry," he corrected.

"Mr. Richmond. The only thing I'm concerned about is Thalia and her success. A meaningless night between you and I isn't important to her doing well in this class."

He wanted to scoff and remind you that you weren't so formal with his name when he was on his knees between your legs making some of the most erotic sounds he'd ever heard come from your lips, but he didn't. He only nodded because he was the one that stood you up, after all. He was the one that never reached back out.

"Right," he agreed. "Well, have a good evening."

"You, too."

You moved to the side, giving him room to pass you and walk out the door. You engaged every muscle in your body to refrain from looking back at him as he left, so you missed the almost heartbroken look in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder at you before heading up to the office to take Thalia home.

• • • •

Terry pulled into the driveway of his home and looked in the rearview to see Thalia sleeping soundly in the backseat. He smiled, turning the car off and walking to the back to pick her up and bring her inside.

He didn't bother telling her to shower and brush her teeth. She was obviously too sleepy to do so. She could do it in the morning. He let her get changed before kissing her forehead goodnight and tucking her in.

After ensuring that she wouldn't be waking up any time soon, he went to the kitchen, pulling out a glass and a bottle of bourbon before retreating to his room for the night. One glance at his bed had him shuddering as he remembered the night he'd shared with you. He groaned before taking his glass with him to the bathroom.

Terry turned the shower on and undressed, finishing off his drink and grimacing at that last bite of the liquor. He stepped into the shower, hoping that it would help clear his mind, but it didn't. All he could picture was you and your beautiful body. He missed the way your hips rolled as you rode him, the way your breasts bounced in his face. He wanted to taste you again, lick every inch of your body and have you squirm beneath him just like you did that night.

Before he knew it, he was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even realize when he wrapped around the base of his cock. His mushroom tip leaked precum as he jerked his hips, quiet grunts leaving his throat. He could still hear your moans and whimpers in his ear, could feel the way you'd ran your tongue up the side of his neck before nipping at his earlobe.

It didn't take long for him to cum. He didn't masturbate often, but he was pent up and stressed and you had just been within arms reach not even an hour ago and he just couldn't take it all. One last thrust into his fist had him spurting thick strings of cum in the shower as he panted heavily.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, throwing his head back at the realization of what he'd just done.

He wasn't sure if there was a special spot in Hell for people that came to the thought of fucking their child's teacher, but if there was, he was sure he'd have a first class ticket.

Terry showered, scrubbing extra hard in an attempt to make himself feel a little less dirty about it all before going to the kitchen and pouring himself another glass of bourbon.

He cursed himself for letting you slip away. He sat on the couch, scrolling through emails on his phone in an attempt to get his mind off of you, but it wasn't very successful.

Maybe, if you didn't stand her up, she'd be here right now and you wouldn't feel like shit for cumming to the thought of her, he thought before putting his phone down and drifting off to sleep on the couch.

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

taglist: @writingsbytee @brattyfics @planetblaque @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @ovohanna24 @idkaskuzi @luvrsluxe @theogbadbitch @blackmoonchilee @secretlifeoofmarpessa @fairy-cores-world @kumkaniudaku @blackpinup22 @ranikyani @rose-blisse-blog @gigi-trini @goldenjasssy @blackerthings @mightbeher @phuckyoreblogs @kirayuki22 @shiania @rawflwrs @jessicapaigeee @venusincleo @sweethoneycream @neteyamstiyawn @piscesdashcam

[yaachtynoboat711]

Key 🥹🥹🥹

An Ode to Black Fanfic Writers

To the Black fanfic writers,

When I first joined Tumblr, I was lost. I didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know if this was a space I could call home. Everything felt overwhelming posts flying by, tags I didn’t understand, communities I didn’t know how to approach. I didn’t even know if I’d like it here. But then I stumbled across your stories, and everything changed.

You saved me.

Through your words, I found my footing in a space that, at first, didn’t feel like it had room for me. You gave me stories that wrapped around me like a warm hug, characters that looked like me, sounded like me, loved like me. You showed me what this app could be what it could mean. You reminded me that our stories are powerful, that we are powerful.

Thank you for being the guiding light I didn’t know I needed.

In a world where Black characters are so often sidelined, erased, or stereotyped, you did something revolutionary: you made us the center. You wrote us as heroes, as lovers, as dreamers. You gave us magic, power, and complexity. You reminded us that we can be everything.

When I read your work, I saw Black girls with wide smiles and wild curls, unafraid to take up space. I saw Black boys navigating their pain and triumphing over it. I saw queer Black love, soft Black love, fierce Black love. And I saw us thriving, not just surviving.

You gave me stories that said, “You belong here.” And that meant everything.

Your stories didn’t just give me representation; they gave me community. Through your words, I connected with people who understood what it means to feel invisible in spaces where you should be seen. People who share my love for these characters and who understand the joy of seeing ourselves in these worlds.

You showed me that fandom isn’t just about the media we consume it’s about the people we meet along the way. The way you build each other up, support one another, and create a space where Black voices shine is nothing short of extraordinary.

I didn’t just find stories on Tumblr. I found a family.

I know it’s not easy. Writing is hard. Posting your work for the world to see is even harder. Yet you do it anyway. You push through the doubt, the fear, the imposter syndrome, and you create. You write stories that make us laugh, cry, and feel seen.

I think about the late nights you spend revising, the time you dedicate to perfecting every scene, every line of dialogue. I think about how you manage to weave pieces of our culture our humor, our slang, our struggles into your stories so effortlessly. It’s art, and it’s real.

Your stories remind us that creativity is resistance. That writing Black characters who are loved, desired, and heroic is an act of defiance in a world that tries to diminish us. You’re not just writing fanfiction, you're making a statement: “We matter. We belong. We are worthy.”

Why You Matter So Much

As a 21-year-old Black woman, I can’t tell you how much your work has inspired me. You’ve shown me the beauty of our diversity, the depth of our experiences, and the endless possibilities of our stories. You’ve reminded me that Blackness is infinite.

You’ve given me hope in ways I didn’t even know I needed. You’ve shown me that joy is revolutionary, that our stories deserve to be told. You’ve given me love stories that feel like home, characters that feel like family, and worlds that feel like freedom.

You’ve saved me on my darkest days.

Forever Grateful

To the Black fanfic writers who dared to take up space in a fandom culture that didn’t always want us here, thank you. Thank you for showing up, for creating, for building a world where we can see ourselves as everything we’ve ever dreamed of being.

You’ve reminded me and so many others that we are powerful, that we are beautiful, that we are worthy of being the main character. You’ve given me more than I could ever repay.

So here’s to you the storytellers, the dreamers, the visionaries.

You’ve made this app feel like home.

You’ve made me feel seen, heard, and loved.

And I am forever grateful.

With love and admiration,

A Black girl who finally found herself through your words.

I am definitely all the writers I know and love and I hope to find more of y'all so I can add y'all to the list, if there is more please tag them! let's show them the love they deserve!

@theegoldenchild @theereina @thecoochiefairy @theblacklewinsky @biglibrat @earthchica @violetmuses @hotgrlcece @megamindsecretlair @wintrrxxo @blkwriters @nysrage @starcrossedxwriter @dilfl0v3rss @merakidoll @eyelessfaces @nayaxwrites @erikismybitch @hearteyes-for-killmonger @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @chrollohearttags @st4rbwrry @salaciousdoll @kenshisluvrgirl @writingsbytee @thecoochiefairy @caashmoneynae @thatone-girly @keyaho @nova2kss

[yaachtynoboat711]

Aaron Pierre as Malcolm X and Kelvin Harrison Jr as Martin Luther King Jr 👑👑😍

[yaachtynoboat711]

The sleeve looks so good omgggggggg

He ate!!!!

[yaachtynoboat711]

writing? oh, i’m definitely writing. in my head. during the most inconvenient times. like in the shower or when i’m about to fall asleep. actual typing? no, no, we don’t do that here.

[yaachtynoboat711]

tumblr not being a part of the metaverse or Elon musk’s agenda >>>>

the superior social media app

[yaachtynoboat711]

Period, stink!!

I have an idea for a terry x reader oneshot but it’s too slutty idk y’all 👀

[yaachtynoboat711]

DO IT

I have an idea for a terry x reader oneshot but it’s too slutty idk y’all 👀