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sageispunk · 4 days

Note

So um I’m kinda obsessed with Aaron and that fic you just wrote kinda makes me feel like I’m going through withdrawals😂😂….. so um are we gonna get the part where he eats her like a full meal cause um yea (Love your writing btw❤️)

A/N: Not with that dynamic, anon, but how about this one??

Let Me Take Control

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), oral (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink sprinkled in, rough sex, persuasion, reader is able to be picked up, use of n-word, all consensual.

Summary: Your fine as hell neighbor, Terry, hits you up late at night with a text. Already knowing what’s ‘bout to go down, you invite him over and get yourself ready for an unforgettable night.

Word Count: 3,807k

AO3 Link

A/N: MISS HIMMMM. I watched Rebel Ridge for the (mindyabidness) time and I neeeeeeed him! WHEW! Ya'll blew my first fic up, and YALL. Don't make me cry with all your sweet words! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

That Munch: You up?

Your phone chimed and you flipped over in bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You opened the message to see a text from your fine ass neighbor, Terry. You popped up in bed, bouncing with the effort as you turned on the lamp.

Cool light flooded the room, taking mercy on your sleep deprived eyes. You pulled the bonnet off of your head and assessed your hair. It was currently coiled into a bun to keep it neat, but your braids were recent and still fresh. Good, you were gonna need that extra strength.

You bit your lip as you texted back.

You: What’s up?

That Munch: Can’t sleep.

Your heart skipped a beat. Terry said the two magic words that got your blood thumping. Your core heating up to dangerous levels. You hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to freshen your breath and relieve yourself.

You washed your hands and looked at yourself in the mirror. Terry’s brain needed to be studied. It was like he knew what you were missing without even having to ask. Or think about it. You were just tossing and turning in bed, sleep eluding you for the hundredth time. You were running through possible solutions when that little chime and those two words fell from the sky like a divine intervention.

You texted back, feeling a little giddy that he was up and willing. You’d been like two ships passing in the fog lately. Always arriving or leaving a touch out of sync with each other. He would just be getting in the elevator when you left your apartment. He was just closing his door when you were emerging from yours.

And once inside, you usually kept contact to a minimum. Tried to put Terry into a box. Firmly in the neighbors with benefits column. He was too fine. Too hot. Too intense to ever be a regular thing. You couldn’t stand it. Looking at that man night and day? Please, you’d die.

You paced the room in your oversized T-shirt and panties, biting your lip as you waited for the short trek through his apartment, out of his door, and the knock on yours. When it came, you skipped to the front door on a bed of nerves. Each footfall felt like lead and each heart beat felt like a stab in your chest.

You opened the door and leaned your head against it. “Hey stranger,” you said, keeping your cool around this man.

You were terrible at it, actually. Terry blinked those pretty electric eyes at you and entered your apartment. You closed the door behind him and locked the door, taking the time to admire his back side. He didn’t wear anything but some long joggers that cupped around his ankles. His ass was well rounded, looking good enough to bite. One side was slightly higher on his calf and for no reason at all, it was the hottest thing ever.

He turned around and his eyes softened. “Were you sleep?” He asked.

His voice alone sent shivers down your spine. On the inside, you were screaming. He was too damn hot to be real. He was like a marble statue made real. He moved with care. Purposeful. You shook your head and with it your thoughts. “You know that ain’t true,” you said.

“Why didn’t you text me?” He asked. He stepped closer, crowding into your space. The door was the only thing holding you up at the moment. He approached, stepping into your personal space. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his smooth skin.

You shrugged. “‘Case you were busy. I came home late tonight,” you said.

Terry smirked and tilted his head. “Has that ever stopped us before?” He asked.

You shook your head. Terry bent his head down and kissed your cheek. You gasped, lips parting as he left behind tingles. Your breathing began to hurt your lungs, breathing too fast and too hard. He hadn’t even done anything yet.

“You been tossing and turning when you know I’m right next door? Willing? Eager?” He asked.

You shivered even though he was hot enough to fill the room. You kept your hands down at your sides. If you started touching him now, this would be over before it started. His shoulders were broad, honed, sculpted. His full lips glowed in the low ambient light in your living room.

“Terry,” you said, more of a warning than a plea. This was why you didn’t call him. This was why your brain didn’t even give you that option. It always felt like you were taking advantage, knowing he wanted more and you continued to toy with his feelings.

It wasn’t on purpose. You truly couldn’t decide to take that ride with him or not. If you were ready to be with someone so grown. So in control. You were used to little fuckboys who played in your face. Who were bigger drama queens than you were and that shit didn’t fly.

But Terry? Terry was a different breed. Falling into his lap was almost an accident. You were smart enough to know your limits but dumb enough to toss them right out of the window.

Terry took your hand and led you away from the door. You smiled at him as he moved without light to your bedroom. You supposed each layout of the apartments were about the same, with some variations. Did that mean his room shared a wall with your bathroom? The thought alone had you biting your lip picturing him all glistening wet.

Inside your bedroom, Terry spun you around and pulled you against the nearest wall. He smirked at you and then he leaned down, bringing his lips to yours but not kissing you. You pouted when you caught up and looked at him.

“I missed you too,” he said.

You took a deep breath and laughed. “I didn’t say that,” you said.

“You were thinking it,” he said. He blinked slowly, lips touching but not completely. You couldn’t feel the full weight of them and you leaned forward, trying to close that distance. Terry leaned out of the way at the last minute, making you grunt.

“You want to fall asleep or not?” You asked, sucking your teeth. Trying to hide how turned on you were. How needy. You could feel your slick leaking out of you and you just needed some damn friction.

Terry’s eyes narrowed. His hand slipped around your throat with such ease, you didn’t even feel him moving. “Who you think you talkin’ to like that?” He asked.

You moaned, eyes crossing at the slight pressure. “You got an attitude with me?” He asked.

You tried to shake your head. Ah, shit. It was one of those nights. You moaned even though you shook your head again. You didn’t mean to get him riled up so quickly.

“You sure? You talkin’ real reckless for someone who want they pussy licked, huh?” He asked. He squeezed your neck and you threw your head back, placing a hand on his chest. You couldn’t take it. You were on fire. Licks of flame made its way through your veins.

“I’m sorry!” You moaned.

Terry chuckled and finally kissed you, bringing you forward by his grip on your throat. “You lucky I’m just hungry tonight.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

Terry released your neck and dropped to his knees. He was still tall as hell, so it didn’t really look like he knelt. The look in his eyes at this angle had you sighing. He didn’t have a merciful bone in his body. Even on his knees, looking up to you, he looked defiant. Challenging. Like he wanted you to fight him because he knew that he’d win.

Terry’s big, strong hands came around to cup your ass. He separated your ass cheeks, giving it a full squeeze, before releasing. Your ass jiggled and Terry hummed and kissed your belly.

“When you gon’ stop playing with me?” He asked.

You cupped his cheek and scratched at his beard. He closed his eyes and hummed, a deep rumbling in his chest. Almost like he was purring.

“Not now, Terry,” you said. You were too lost in the sauce. Too lost in the depth of those eyes. Swirls of brown and blue and green, like he contained the world in them. You’d agree to anything right now and he didn’t need to know that.

Terry lifted your shirt, kissing all over your stomach. He left fat, wet kisses on your skin. You ran your nails across his fade, filling the slight ripples. His hair was coarse, feeling like heaven against the palm of your hand. Terry moved lower and pulled your leg over his shoulder.

He pushed your panties to the side, taking a deep breath and moaned. “Smell so fuckin’ good,” he said. His tongue darted out and licked you from entrance to clit. You yelped and collapsed against him, leaning all of your weight on him.

Terry hummed, purred, and placed a hand on your belly and pushed. You fell back against the cold wall, yelping from the shock of it. Terry kept one arm under your leg, supporting your hip from the back. His other flattened across your belly, pushing you against the wall and stabilizing you.

“I was laying in my bed, trynna think of what would make me go to sleep. And then, I started thinking about this pretty pussy,” he said. He began to eat you out and talk through it, dragging his lips. He spoke these words into your pussy like he was writing affirmations into your skin with his tongue.

“About how you get so wet, so quick. My favorite is when you start leaking down your leg,” he said. At the end of the sentence, he sucked on your clit and you cried out, gripping his shoulders and trying to push. He held you down, held you open, while he purred.

“I like knowing you get so needy, you can’t help it. You’d fuck anything nearby, wouldn’t you?” He cooed into your pussy.

Your teeth chattered as he licked and prodded at your entrance, gathering up your essence, and suckling it all down. He moved back up to your clit, playing with the swollen nub with the tip of his tongue. You shivered against him and he moved with you, dodging your attempts to turn to mush in his arms.

“And then I started thinking, hmmm, I need that. I need to bust down that throat. Or maybe save this load for this pussy. She look hungry,” he said, moving his lips between your folds.

“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned. The fire he started went straight to your lower belly, clenching painfully as you neared an orgasm. Why was it so difficult to maintain a cool exterior with this man? In no time at all, he already had you screaming to the heavens. Screaming for any neighbors to hear that he was hand delivering pleasure.

His hand squeezed your ass and you moaned, biting your lip painfully. His lips began smacking, suckling on your clit and releasing it with a loud smack. Your clit throbbed, uselessly clenching around nothing.

“Please, Terry, oh god, please, please,” you begged.

“Keep begging, baby, shit turns me on,” he said, repeatedly suckling your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, finally letting the climax take over. You shook and shivered, flopping against the wall and turning boneless. Terry kept up with your flopping, chuckling evilly as he continued to eat you out while you spasmed on him.

“That’s it. That’s it, beautiful. Let all that shit go,” he whispered into your pussy. You didn’t know how you heard him. Perhaps he was just that good. Just that in control. That deep voice was lower than sin as he whispered against your clit, rolling his tongue.

You looked down at him and his eyes snapped to yours. Eyes soft. Pretty ass eyelashes. He was perfect. Too perfect. Your body stopped flopping and you panted, huffed, as you came down. Terry slowed his tongue against your clit, flattening his tongue against and making you jerk.

His heavy breaths fanned across your pussy and you moaned, writhing against him. “Fuck, Terry,” you said.

Terry kissed your thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He continued up to your belly, lifting your shirt with his head and he came up further. Your leg slid from his shoulder down to his side, and wrapped around his leg as he stood up.

He gripped your chin and pulled you into a kiss. You smelled and tasted yourself on him, your slick on his beard. You moaned, turning the kiss nasty as you played with each other’s tongues.

Terry broke the kiss and smirked at you as he hooked his thumbs into your panties and tore them from your legs.

“Hey!” You yelled, slapping his shoulder. Terry smirked, licked his lips, and stuffed the panties into your mouth. You smelled your arousal, your essence, and you moaned.

“You like it,” he said with a shrug.

You rolled your eyes, lifting your hand to pull your panties out. Terry snatched your wrist, pulling it above your head. Before you could lift the other, he snatched that one too. He kept both in one hand, and then stuffed your panties further into your mouth.

“When you gon’ say yes and let me play in these guts whenever I want?” He asked.

You groaned and closed your eyes to the onslaught of pleasure. His voice found your off switch, making your brain fritz out over hearing his words. “Not now, Terry,” you said, voice muffled by the panties.

You breathed harshly through your nose, rubbing yourself against him. He was so tall, so big, so thick.

“Why not now?” Terry asked, nudging his nose against yours. He kissed the corners of your mouth, kissing your jaw below your ear, and then nibbling on your earlobe.

He used his free hand to lift you on top of him and you wrapped your legs around his waist. His impressive bulge slotted between your legs and you moaned, rubbing yourself against him. Fuck, he made you needy. Wanton. Like you truly grew dumb, replaced with nothing but your baser instincts. To fuck. To grind. To toot your ass in the air and let him do whatever he wanted. Whatever he asked for.

“What’s holding you back from me? From this? From fucking you in the morning, fucking you at night, in between meals when I need to get inside you. I know you feel this too,” he said. He moved his joggers down, exposing his huge dick.

“Fuck,” you moaned, rubbing against him. Your pussy smacked as he tapped his tip against your pussy.

“She nice and loud tonight,” he said.

Your legs shook as Terry moved his dick through your folds, getting the tip of him wet before pushing in.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” you moaned, throwing your head back against the wall. He was so big. “Fuck, fill me up, fill me up.”

Terry groaned as he pushed inside, rolling his hips to sink inside. To bury his shaft deep and touch a that part inside. The part only he could touch. You tried going on dates with other guys. You tried convincing Terry and yourself that you were for the streets. Wasn’t no nigga gon’ play ‘round you no more.

But they all fell short. They all were measured against Terry and were found lacking. Incomplete. With a look, Terry could have you whining and fucking yourself on him like a horny dog.

“You could have this whenever you want,” he said. He began to stroke, proving that what came before were merely foreplay. He snapped his hips, pumped his arms and slammed you on his dick.

You moaned and grunted on his dick, crying, shaking, gripping onto him for dear life. He was the only one capable of delivering this type of pleasure. He leaned down and buried his nose into your neck, absently kissing you. Licking the rapid pulse in your neck.

“Terry, please, not-now,” you moaned. You didn’t know if he knew what you were saying considering the gag. Every inhale brought a fresh wave of your scent to your nostrils and you moaned. His moans mingled with yours, sliding more easily inside of you as your essence flooded his dick.

“Say yes, baby, say yes. Say yes for me. Say yes for Daddy,” he said, snapping his hips faster.

He fucked you furiously against the wall, slamming inside of you while placing tender kisses against your neck. Under your ear. Moving along your jaw. He clamped his teeth down on your panties and pulled it from your mouth. He leaned down and kissed you. Kissing those sweet lips. Playing with his rough tongue. His mouth was a gift from God himself.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He moved his hands to your ass and smacked it, causing the sound to echo in your bedroom. “Oh fuck, Terry!”

Terry smacked your ass again. “What you s’posed to call me?” He asked.

He dropped you against his dick, pouding against that deep spot inside of you. The pitch of your moans changed, turning higher and faster. Coming quicker than you can breathe.

“There it is. But you gon’ have to earn this second nut,” he said.

You pushed feebly against his shoulders. Not to get rid of him but you needed some kind of release. Something to make the pressure pop. You forced yourself to breathe, to gulp in air.

“Please, Daddy,” you moaned, turning wet, glistening eyes to him.

A tear escaped your eye and Terry licked it off of your cheek. He purred, dick throbbing inside of you.

“Be good for me and say yes. Say yes to getting dicked down every night. On demand,” he said.

“I can’t,” you moaned, shaking your head back and forth.

He found a good rhythm, hitting your spot and making you moan every time he did it. Sweet, musical moans that sounded good even to your own ears. He was fucking you too well, had you clutching onto his neck. His thighs were like steel, effortlessly holding you and slapping against your ass.

“Sure you can, you wanna cum, right? That’s why you opened the door for me? That’s why you’ll always open the door for me? ‘Cause you know I dig this shit out right. You know you can’t find another nigga ready to treat you like this. Give you what you need. What you crave. Like a good little fuckin’ slut,” he said.

He abruptly pulled out of you. “No!” You screamed.

Terry chuckled as he carried you to the bed. He laid you down, pushing your shirt up enough for him to see your titties.

He spread your legs wide and slid back inside you like he never left. He rutted inside you, increasing his pace now that he didn’t have to support your weight. He was relentless, moving his hand up to rub your clit.

Your thighs snapped shut, trapping his hand. “Open that shit back up. Now!” He barked.

You whimpered and whined as you fought against your body, opening your legs even though you wanted to stall him. Hold him off. “Move that hand before I move it for you,” he said.

You sniffled, hot all over and sweaty all over. You moved your hand, lowering it to the covers and grabbing a handful. “Fuck! Please, Daddy!” You moaned.

Terry pushed your legs until they were practically at your chest. He slapped your ass a few times. Each slap was worse than the last, lighting your ass up like a Christmas tree.

You yelled out, cried out, pleaded with him while he continued to smack your ass and dig in your guts. You felt him deep inside, throbbing, pulsing.

“Please, give meeee,” you moaned.

Terry chuckled. He flicked his thumb against your pussy, your slick making your pussy sound louder. Wetter.

“Hear how she sings? You gon’ take this dick and still lie to my face?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not-lie,” you huffed. Fuck, you were close. You were so close. You clutched at the covers, at the sheets, clawed at anything close by.

“You want that shit, then you say the magic words. I’m tired of waitin’,” he said.

You sniffled. Aw hell. There was no use fighting anymore. It was clear that Terry was the only one for you. He was the only one who knew exactly what to do, what to say. He was a man. All over.

You leaned on your elbows and stared in his face. “Fuck me, Daddy, like I’m yours. ‘Cause I am,” you said.

“You mine?” He asked, grinning wide and stealing your breath away. Fuck, he was so pretty. So beautiful.

You nodded. “I’m yours,” you said.

“This pussy mine, too?” He asked. He pressed on your clit and you moaned loudly. You lifted your hips, needing him to do that shit again. He obliged, pressing on your throbbing clit.

“Yes, Daddy, all yours,” you agreed. You’d agree to steal the moon for him if he would just let you cum. If he would grant his permission.

“Good, then cum on this dick like a good slut,” he said. He kissed you, changing the angle of his hips and snapping against your sweet spot. You came instantly, legs shaking, pussy gripping him tightly.

“That’s it. Squeeze that fuckin’ dick,” he moaned against your lips. He palmed your tits, kneading, pinching your nipples and making you grip him even tighter.

“Make me feel that,” he cooed as he thrust one more time and exploded inside you. His pulsing cum painted your walls white.

Terry moaned, face falling into bliss as he came. He was even more beautiful like this. Undone. Unleashed. Untethered to that iron clad control of his. He scrunched his face up, like it felt too good. Too amazing.

“Ohh, good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” he moaned, kissing your forehead. You huffed, panting, sweating. Your skin turned clammy, the pressure gone from earlier.

Your pussy squelched as Terry softened, pulling out of you. His cum gushed out, leaking down your ass and onto the bed. Terry kept your legs spread, watching as he leaked out of you.

“Tomorrow night. Me and you. Date night. Then back here so I can fuck your brains out,” he huffed. He kissed your forehead and then pulled you into a sitting position.

He caressed your chin and you fell forward, placing your forehead against his sculpted chest. “Yes, Daddy,” you said and kissed his belly.

“There’s my girl,” he said.

There's more Terry! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

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

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@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter

#u did it again!!!!! whew lord #terry richmond #aaron pierre #my recs #smut

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sageispunk · 6 days

Text

👩🏾‍❤️‍👨🏾Home Makin' 💍

Jatemme Manning x Reader

In which Jatemme sees you, likes you, and wants you.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18 +, cursing, long fic, soft!dark!deluluJatemme, meanbf/ex-bf, mentions of cheating, mentions of financial struggle, smoking/weed/, drinking/alcohol

The space was more than impressive. The lounge was sprawling in low light, it’s style classy but somehow still welcoming. There were more intimate seating deeper into the room and off to the sides with booths higher up on a second level that you could spot from the front doors.

Suites and gowns sparkled as their wearers had their good time. From what you could see, the space spanned far enough to include room for dancing and two bars to choose from. The tables placed in between from from ornate to modest--the patrons varying from business-like to glamourous.

You felt cheap in your gray dress and simple flats and exchanged a nervous glance with your husband. It was all you could do on short notice.

“Should have worn something better.” His eyes cutting down his own button up.

“I think you look very handsome.” you said and returned the smile Calvin gave as he put his arm around your shoulder.

A chipper hostess came and asked to follow her. You appreciated her chatter as it distracted from your racing heart and Calvin's low muttering.

The hostess' took a liking your hair and asked if your hair clips came in green. Talking to her made your shoulders drop down and once you noticed the laid-back atmosphere, you relaxed.

You were only meeting your husband’s boss—Mr. Manning. Calvin spoke of the brothers with high esteem and made himself available to their every whim.

You was determined to make a good impression.

He fidgeted with his color and you smoothed away imaginary wrinkles from your dress in solidarity. It wasn't often Calvin was so openly nervous.

"It'll be okay," You said to him, "We got this! We're cool people!"

He looked at you fondly and blew out a quick breath. There was something nagging at you about the look in his eye but you pushed it aside.

It would be something you were going to ask about later. First, dinner.

Calvin dropped his arm and you thanked the hostess as she turned to leave you to greet the man sitting in the booth a few more feet away. Calvin fidgeted with his collar once before turning to you and chased away the imaginary wrinkles from your shoulder.

You smiled encouragingly and reached out for his hand.

“Be good.” He said, turning away. You followed after him and tangled your own fingers together as you followed.

Jatemme Manning sat in the booth and appeared as bored as someone could be. It was a relief to see him dressed as casually as you and Calvin, despite the gold links winking from his wrist and around his neck.

He was younger than what you were expecting but that did nothing to taper his commanding presence. You were caught instantly by his gaze despite him standing to accept Calvin's hand shake first.

When Calvin introduced you, Jatemme repeated your name and shook your hand but held on for a moment.

"Nice to finally meet you. Calvin here has a nasty habit of bragging."

You aimed a bashful look at your husband who winked at you. You went to tease him but his phone came to life, blaring in his pocket before he hurried and silenced it.

Scooting far enough into the booth to be across from Mr. Manning, you waited for Calvin to do the same.

"Busy place, ah shit..." Calvin's phone sounded again and he fumbled to silence it. He sat it face down onto the table and you resisted the urge to sigh.

A laminated menu was slid over to you and you were about to busy yourself with looking over the options as Calvin lead the conversation.

"Ah, we don't need these."

The menu was eased from your hand and you looked over at Calvin as he put his and your menus beneath his elbow.

"This one is a black hole, gotta be careful around too many options!" Calvin playfully nudged you and you granted him a breeze of a laugh.

"Let me guess. A chicken salad?

"Can't go wrong with that! "

Be good. Be good. Be good.

You aimed another smile at Mr. Manning as you gave white lie, "I had a little something earlier to hold me over. A chicken salad sounds pretty dressed up anyway--that'll be more than enough."

Yeah. As if a few handfuls of Planters was going to do much...

Jatemme said nothing but slid his menu before you. You felt your mask slip, you glanced at Calvin and saw the fixed expression looking back at you. You made no move to open the menu but thanked Mr. Manning either way.

Tension slid in and jointed the three of you in the booth.

You know Mr. Manning was trying to be considerate and you felt more than rude. If Calvin thought the alpha-male bullshit was going to work on Mr. Manning, you could only hope that it did work if just to make the night go by faster.

Judging from how Mr. Manning level Calvin with the most bland stare in return....

Calvin's phone rang for the 3rd time and now both you and Jatemme were staring at the device on the table. Calvin chuckled a bit and went to silence it, looking over at you with a lopsided smile.

"Business been banging down our doors, can't even have a moment to relax!"

The smile you offered felt like plastic on your face. What business could be calling if his boss was sitting right in front of him?

Calvin cursed when his phone vibrated again but this time, Jatemme plucked it from the table before he could reach. Calvin choked on air and it startled an 'oop!' out of you.

"You should handle that. Step away for a while until it's done," Was all Jatemme said as he handed the phone directly to Calvin,

"Can't keep that waiting for too long."

You turned your wide eyes to Calvin as he hurriedly stood with an apology and a promise to return soon. Don't leave. Don't leave. Don't leave.

You went to stand up as well, calling his name softly but he waved at your seat for to sit back down as he didn't even spare another glance at you.

Eventually you did sit again when Calvin went towards the bar to put his cell to his ear, no longer concerned about you. No one could have seen it aside from Jatemme, maybe the lively atmosphere saved you some face.

There was something in Jatemme's expression that made you want to follow after your husband.

You wondered if it really was a good thing you were there.

-----

The two of you sat in silence for the next 10 minutes, you pecking at your phone and Mr. Manning surveying the crowd.

“Glad you could make it.”

You looked up from the napkin in your lap to find Mr. Manning speaking to you.

You went to wave it off but thought that maybe it was too informal and your hand ended up stuttering in the air.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Manning.” you felt like a broken record and jerkily added, “It was a very nice surprise."

“Mn. You call me Jatemme. I’m only Manning to those who work for me.”

It felt like a dig to Calvin and you knew better than to respond. Even if he was gone, you would guess that he was somewhere that had a perfect sight of your booth.

Mr. Manning--Jatemme-- addressed you again,

“I was told that you like Italian. They have a good chicken scarpariello that you'd enjoy."

“Really? I haven't had that in so long--not since the spot on Barley and Coleman closed.” You felt a pang of regret of not even being able to really take in the menu.

Jatemme's brows jumped a bit, “ I knew the place. How about we add on an order of it to go along with that salad, hm?”

“O-Oh, no thank you--

“The salads are small. I’d hate to think you’re sitting there hungry.”

Helpless and caught between in wanting to be loyal but also polite, you felt the words beginning to jumble in your head. Jatemme leaned in folded his fingers together on the table between them, giving you a patiently amused look.

“Listen, I know you’re nervous but relax. I invited you here so you're my guest and that means the bill is taken care of. You ain't gonna put a hole in my wallet. How about a drink too? For us both?"

You didn’t understand why Mr. Manning was being so considerate when you were just... plus one. You quickly glanced for Calvin and anxiety bloomed beneath your heart when he wasn't at the bar.

Jatemme flagged down the waitress from earlier and put in your order. The waitress recommended a fruity drink that sounded absolutely delicious and jotted down Jatemme's order for double shot of whiskey.

You took a deep breath and forced your shoulders from your ears. You had to calm down, you had to make a good impression since Calvin wasn't there to do it himself.

“Calvin says you're stay-at-home type of lady. Doesn't that leave a lot on you?”

Though surprised at the question, you still brightened at thought of Calvin talking about you, “I have a lot of time on my hands, so I try to use it the best way I can."

You trailed off when the waitress returned with the drinks and thanked her.

“It’s so pink!” You giggled a bit. It like the mixer trapped Barbie's essence and laced it with bacardi and pineapple juice.

Jatemme rose his glass and you mirrored the gesture before you both sipped. It was very good and the mixed fruit's sweetness made it an instant hit for you. Coldness of the glass was blessedly grounding.

“So, you say you have a lot of time on your hands. What else do you do with it aside from making your man's life easier?”

You felt your face go hot beneath his waiting gaze. You took another sip then answered, “I’m a bit boring if I'm not careful. If I'm not putting the house together--I'm putting something together."

Wither it be dinner or clothes, you kept your hands busy to keep your mind peaceful.

“Hm. Then what about if it's already put together?”

You hadn’t realized you were sucking down the drink until the straw stuttered on an empty pocket in the ice.

“Erm, I like going to the theatre if there is something Calvin wouldn’t want to see at home.”

“What wouldn’t he like to see with you?”

You recalled a movie released a few months prior. It had a pretty good line up and seemed more of an action than a comedy—you were so sure Calvin would have wanted to see it with you.

“Y’know I can't cramp his style with the girly stuff! It's better to let him see the cool stuff with his boys. I'll treat myself to a matinee--full theatre experience!"

When the silence stretched on and the next question never came, you finally looked away from your sweating glass to meet Jatemme's gaze square on.

“Tell me some other things you like to do.” He asked as soon as your eyes met.

You laughed a bit. He was clearly waiting for your full attention before continuing his interrogation. The drink was doing it’s job and you actually started to relax. The urge to check for Calvin quieted as you focused on not making a fool of yourself.

Be good, he said. You could do that.

“I like to bake and sew. I like...eating the coating off of a strawberry shortcake before the ice-cream.”

Jatemme's mouth twitched, “Well, that's criminal.”

You gave a shy smile as you continued, “I like to draw. I'm better with paints rather than the other stuff, though.”

“Other stuff?"

Question after question Jatemme gave to you. Asking what was going on in your life aside from what Calvin had going. Jatemme asked you about what was difference between your interests and obligations, what's something you'd never do again and did you have a bucket list.

At some point, you forgot to be nervous as the situation went from uncomfortable to...steady. Jatemme listened to your answers as if they actually mattered--but maybe they did.

When Jatemme ordered you another drink, you realized just how much time has past.

“It's been a while. Hasn't it been a while?” You couldn’t catch yourself, the frown was heavy on your face as you checked the time on your phone.

It's been a been well past an hour and Calvin hasn't returned.

"It's been a while." Jatemme confirmed but didn't seem bothered as he leaned back, "Don't mind me--give him a call."

You excused yourself to the restroom with the promise to be quick. Though you didn't turn to check, you swore you felt his eyes roam after you.

Once you safe inside the restroom, you released a sigh of relief to see that there were cubicles in place of the standard bathroom stall. Hurrying into the first stall, you leaned up against the stall door and dialed Calvin.

The phone rang and rang on, your thumbnail cracked away beneath your teeth as you went to voicemail. You dialed again, this time sitting on the toilet's lid and taking deep breaths.

"Girl, why are you callin' me back to back?"

"Excuse me, because you left at the table with your damn boss--what do you mean? I don't know this man!"

"Go back and let him know, baby! There...was a mix up and I had to make shit happen before it looks too bad. I need you to hold it down for me until I get back."

"Cal, that makes no fucking sense--we just got here and you ha--

"JUST...Hold it down for me, baby. What's good for me is good for you. I'll see you soon... a'ight."

If it weren't for the sudden bustle of a chattering group of friend coming into the restroom, you would have threw your phone. Instead, you pressed your knuckles into your eyelids and tried to follow after the strobing spots.

How could you pretend when you knew Calvin was lying through his teeth to you?

--------

You came back to the booth, phone clutched before you in both hands. Even though you splashed your face with cold water--you still felt a raw around the eyes.

"Not coming, is he?"

Jatemme's words carried a heavy center and you apologized profusely. You couldn't even give a reason and lying was the farthest thing from your mind--the truth of the situation was bad enough.

Jatemme's expression became serious, "I wanted him here, ain't gonna lie. You find out a lot about a man and what he values when he's sitting next to his lady."

You didn't understand the full nature of what Calvin did for the Manning brothers but he wanted nothing more than to be brought further into the fold. Possibly a partnership rather than being an worker.

This, though, this felt like an undeniable fuck up.

Jatemme pinned you with his stare for a moment longer before the waitress returned with your food and an apology for the wait. The food looked amazing, steaming and fresh but you weren't even sure if you could eat.

What should you do? Why stay if Calvin wasn't here to gain from it? Was Calvin going to be back before you finished dinner--should you finish? You should leave--you should really leave--

"Maybe I shoul--

"I think you should stay," Jatemme spoke as if reading your mind, "It'd be waste of good food and company if you don't. At least you can tell me some things about your husband I don't already know, hm?"

Hold it down for me, baby.

Your answer was to nod, reaching out for your refilled Barbie-drink and taking a hearty sip.

"There we go. Don't suppose you'll bolt if I suggest something sweet after?" Jatemme's tone was lighter than before and for the first time in the night---you felt like you were off the hook.

You unfolded a napkin in your lap, pretending that Calvin was only in the restroom dealing with an unfortunate gut emergency instead of wherever the hell he really was at.

"I think I can push down my Bambi instincts in exchange for a slice of chocolate cake..."

"Hm. I knew you had good taste--chocolate it is then."

You couldn't do much for Calvin but you could at least do dinner.

-------------

✨ending notes✨: aaand that's part 1! Just what is happening? What does Jatemme have going on? You tell me!😆 lmao! I wasn't going to make this a series but honestly, this thing has gotten away from me.🫣 This may be very self-indulgent. I'm shooting for at least a three part-er 🤔Lemme know if you're vibing with it lol! Reblog and comment !⭐💜💕

💕taglist💕: @megamindsecretlair @harmshake @blowmymbackout @cocochannelmoi @sageispunk @hunnishive @last-lost-one @kindofaintrovert @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @thadelightfulone

#daniel kaluuya #jatemme manning

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