#8266 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ch33z3grits · 4 months ago

Text

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

summary: Terry scrambles to correct himself for a massive slip-up concerning Camille, seeking help from one of his most trusted sources. Camille begins to feel scrutinized by Aston, making her wonder just how well she’s hiding her feelings towards Terry.

warnings: 18+ mdni, mentions of sexual situations, dark romance, manipulation, obsessiveness/possessiveness, mentions of blood, mentions of violence, mentions of accidental death, angst

word count: 8266

glossary:

Indulgences: human beings that vampires deem romantically and sexually desirable

Shifting: the ability for supernaturals to change between their human-presenting form and their true appearance

Ambrosia: an aphrodisiac and euphoric substance that makes humans more open to the propositions of supernaturals

a/n: so i definitely planned to post this yesterday, but my wi-fi went out in my apartment 🙃 so posting this from work (where of course, today of all days, everyone wanted to look over my shoulder). hope y'all enjoy!

Terry’s song: Dark Red-Steve Lacy | Camille’s song: Love on the Brain-Rihanna

Pt. Five

Terry

Fuck.

Fuck!

Terry stared down at Camille's unconscious form, the weight of the moment crashing over him. Everything happened so fast, so fucking fast. One moment, she was looking through her purse. The next, she pulled her hand back, a trail of blood catching the light in a brilliant splash of red.

She hurt herself.

The blood was blindingly bright and had magnified her intoxicating scent: a rich blend of vanilla and jasmine that swirled through the air like an ethereal perfume. The droplets fell against the asphalt with a soft, melodic rhythm, like wind chimes. That was all it took for his carefully constructed resolve to break, the sharp pang of hunger shooting through him like wildfire.

His composure shattered in an instant. The discipline he had so carefully cultivated, the iron control that kept his primal instincts chained, snapped. It was only a few seconds, but that was all it took. His hunger consumed him, his drive to take. By the time his mind could even process what was happening, he had taken two desperate gulps of her blood, too much too fast.

Blinking rapidly, he forced himself to focus. His tongue, still coated in her delicious life force, reached out to lick the wound he had made on her neck. He watched as the marks began to close, the flesh knitting itself back together under his touch. He gathered her body into his arms and, with hurried movements, rushed to his car. He flung open the passenger door and gently laid her in the seat, securing the seat belt around her. He sprinted to the driver’s side, the engine roaring to life beneath him as he sped away without so much as a glance at his blind spot.

His hands shook slightly as he fumbled with his phone, dialing a number he called frequently, but never for anything related to this. "Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath, frustration building with every passing second. The phone rang, the seconds stretching into eternity, until a familiar voice finally broke through, calm but laced with concern.

“Terry? Everything okay?” the voice of his close friend and fellow vampire, Elijah, came through. Terry’s chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. It felt like everything was falling apart. “You working today?” he forced out, glancing at Camille slumped in the seat beside him.

“Yeah, why?”

“I need help,” Terry’s voice raw with guilt and fear. “I... I lost control.” He could hear Elijah’s sharp intake of breath on the other end.

“How many pints?” Elijah asked, his voice low and measured, trying to keep the conversation as discreet as possible.

Terry’s heart ached as the reality of the situation sank in deeper. “Like one and a half, maybe two. She’s knocked out.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Elijah’s voice was calm again. “Just get her to the hospital now.”

“Yeah,” Terry replied, the words feeling like lead in his mouth. “I’m on my way now.”

He accelerated, his eyes locked on the road ahead, but his mind was still reeling, still trying to process what had just happened.

He didn’t mean to drink from her. He didn’t mean to siphon off a little bit of her life force. Not yet, at least. That was supposed to come later, far later, after he had her completely, utterly, helplessly in love with him. So deeply, that the revelation of his true nature would only cause her temporary horror. He would coax her into forgiveness, into a sense of security that made her feel safe with someone as deadly as him. And once she got comfortable, he would show her just how pleasurable and rewarding it would be to offer him her vein. He would make love to her, slow and deliberate, to put her mind at ease and relax her enough to get her blood rushing for the perfect bite. Let her cum a few times so her mind would be open to him taking her. Then, his fangs would sink into her as he plunged into her depths, letting her pussy clench around him as he sent her to a place beyond euphoria. And he would feast on her slowly as she cried over how good he made her feel. Camille would be hooked, eagerly offering herself to him as much as he pleased.

But in a moment of weakness, he lost it. Jeopardized his whole plan. His future with Camille. All because of one unexpected cut. He looked over to her once more, checking on her state. She was still unmoving. He reached his right hand over to her, placing it over her nose lightly. His body relaxed a bit, feeling her breath hit his fingers. But, they were shallow.

“Almost there, baby,” he whispered, extending his reach to stroke her hair. “Almost there.”

After recklessly weaving in and out of traffic and through red lights, Terry finally came to a halt in front of St. Joseph’s Medical Center, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t give a damn that he parked his Lamborghini Urus in the area designated exclusively for ambulances. This wasn’t just an emergency; it was his emergency.

Elijah was already there, standing at the curb with a gurney and two nurses already in position. They rushed to the passenger side, opening the door and swiftly pulling out Camille’s limp body. The nurses worked with practiced precision, their faces a blur of focus and urgency as they wheeled her away, the wheels squealing against the pavement.

Terry attempted to follow, but Elijah moved quickly, stepping directly in front of him and placing his hand firmly on Terry’s chest, blocking his path. Terry’s body stiffened, and his eyes blazed with fury. He shot Elijah a murderous glare, but Elijah met it without flinching.

“Terry,” Elijah said, his voice calm but firm. “I understand, but you need to calm down—”

“Man, get the fuck out of my way,” Terry growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Elijah didn’t budge. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Terry, I know you’re basically made of money and power, but there’s no amount that’ll save you if you shift in front of all these people. Don’t expose yourself.”

Terry’s chest rose and fell sharply as his brain processed Elijah’s words. He was right. Shifting in a busy area would be disastrous. There would be too many consequences to count. His grip on his control wavered, and his instincts screamed at him to act, to run after Camille, to make sure she was okay, but Elijah held him in place.

Terry inhaled sharply, his breath ragged as he squeezed his eyes shut, grounding himself. Elijah stood silently beside him, offering no judgment, just the quiet reassurance of his presence. “Focus, make sure your eyes are back to normal,” Elijah said softly.

With deliberate effort, Terry forced himself to take a few deep breaths. The scent of Camille’s blood, still clinging to his lips, made his mouth water, but he pushed it aside. Slowly, painfully, he concentrated on his usual form. His human facade. And when he opened his eyes again, he could tell that they were back to blue.

Elijah gave him a long, appraising look before nodding. “Alright, you’re good. Follow me.”

The two men hurried into the hospital, navigating the sterile white hallways with precision. Terry kept his head down, forcing himself to stay calm as the air around him buzzed with the sounds of chattering voices and beeping medical devices. His mind was on Camille, her pulse, her breath. She’s alive, she’s alive, he repeated to himself silently. After a series of twists and turns, they arrived at the room where Camille laid.

Terry let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. The sight of her, although still unconscious, hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV drip, brought him a sense of relief that almost made his knees buckle.

He leaned against the doorframe, letting the steady beeping of the monitor wash over him. His chest eased.

“She’s stable,” Elijah said, his voice softer now, but his gaze still sharp, measuring Terry. “But we should probably talk once she’s discharged. This isn't like you at all.”

Terry nodded, his eyes fixed on Camille. His guilt was only growing stronger. This wasn’t just a slip-up. It was a failure. He had always been unshakable and indestructible. He had always been able to control himself, especially under pressure. But Camille had obviously become his weakness. He was better than this. He had to be. If he was going to have her in his life, he had to stay composed. He couldn’t slip into some ferocious, lust-fueled hunger every time she got an injury.

“Hey,” Elijah's voice was gentle as he placed a reassuring hand on Terry's arm. “She’s going to be alright. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” With those few words of comfort, he gave Terry a firm nod before turning and heading down the hall, leaving Terry alone.

Terry exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face as his mind raced. He couldn’t allow self-pity to sink in. Camille needed him to have everything under control by the time she woke up, so she wouldn’t be burdened with any more worries than necessary.

First, he called the office, alerting HR to the fact that Camille had a medical emergency and wouldn’t be returning to work for the rest of the day. Next, he dialed up an associate who dealt with scenes related to these types of incidents. They would be able to retrieve her car, delete any video footage of what happened, and make sure any witnesses didn’t remember what happened. Finally, he sent a brief text to Elijah, requesting that he bring some ambrosia to Camille’s room. She would need to drink it soon in case her memory returned and she remembered anything about him…attacking her.

Terry let out another sigh, his body sinking into the chair beside her bed. He reached out and took her hand in his, gently lifting it to his lips and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her knuckles. "I’m so sorry, Camille," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. His thumb brushed tenderly against her hand, the softness calming his thoughts.

As he returned her hand back to her side, the door burst open with surprising force. Terry’s head snapped up, eyes widening as a woman stood in the doorway, clearly breathless. It was Kali. Her wide eyes darted between him and Camille, her shock palpable.

"Terry?" she asked, her voice thick with confusion.

"Kali?" he replied, his voice coming out a little strained. "You work here?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to mask his unease, but the wariness in her gaze made him anxious. Did she see me kiss her hand? He thought. Nah, she definitely would’ve mentioned something. Just stay cool.

"Yeah," Kali responded, smoothing her scrubs as she took a step closer. "I’m an RN in the NICU. Why are you here?" Her eyes narrowed slightly, still scanning him with suspicion.

"She fainted at a work event after cutting her hand," Terry said, his voice calm and controlled. "I brought her here. Didn’t want her to be alone." He gave her a reassuring smile, hoping that would ease her. Kali’s guarded expression softened, his explanation seeming reasonable.

"Oh, God," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She crossed over to Camille’s side, placing the back of her hand gently against her forehead, her face filled with concern.

After a moment, Kali turned back to Terry, gratitude flickering in her eyes. "Thank God you were there," she murmured, her voice tinged with relief. "Who knows what might’ve happened."

She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me, he thought. He forced a weak smile, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, I'm glad too," he said quietly, his eyes falling back to Camille. He cleared his throat. "The doctor said she was gonna be okay?"

Kali immediately moved to the wall, pulling the chart that hung there. She scanned it quickly, her brow furrowing as she read over the details. She glanced up at him.

"Yeah, it says she lost a fair amount of blood, but not enough to be in hypovolemic shock," Kali muttered, her voice trailing off. She looked back at Camille, the confusion growing in her expression. "But that’s strange. She should be awake by now..."

Terry’s pulse quickened. Fainting is common for humans during their first few feedings, he reminded himself.

Before Terry could respond, a soft whimper filled the room. Instinctively, both Kali and Terry turned toward Camille as her eyelids fluttered. Terry’s chest tightened as he watched her stir, a lump forming in his throat.

She’s waking up, he thought urgently, his telepathic message reaching Elijah. That ambrosia—still on the way?

Be there as soon as I can. It’s still mixing, came Elijah's response.

“Terry?” Camille’s voice broke through, fragile and hoarse, her gaze locked onto him. His heart skipped a beat as he leaned closer to her. “Hey, Camille,” he said. “How do you feel?”

She blinked, disoriented, her eyes trying to make sense of the unfamiliar surroundings. “Umm… a little lightheaded. What happened? Where are we?”

Terry opened his mouth to answer, but before he could find the right words, Kali spoke, her tone warm yet tinged with relief. “You’re at the hospital, babe.”

Camille’s head shifted to the other side of the bed, her gaze landing on Kali. The confusion in her eyes deepened. “Kali?” she whispered, obviously shocked. “You work almost forty minutes away from me. How’d I end up here?”

Terry hesitated, knowing he needed to stay as vague as possible. He spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. “You cut yourself,” he explained gently, motioning toward the bandaged finger on her hand. “You brought something from the office to me… but you lost a lot of blood and fainted pretty soon after you got there.”

Confusion continued to cross her face as she struggled to remember. “What?” she whispered again, her voice laced with disbelief. “I don’t even remember leaving the office…”

Kali's voice was soft but filled with gratitude. “Thank goodness Terry was there,” she said, her eyes never leaving Camille. “He acted so quickly… this could’ve been much worse.” Her gaze finally shifted to Terry, a silent thank you.

Camille’s eyes also returned to Terry’s, her expression both apologetic and touched. “Terry…thank you so much,” she said, her honey-like voice making Terry’s heart, and dick, jump. “I’m really sorry this interrupted your day…”

Terry shook his head, crouching so they were eye to eye. His hand gently brushed hers, a quiet reassurance. “Don’t apologize, Camille,” his words steady but filled with unspoken emotion. “I’m just… really glad you’re okay.”

They exchanged a look and it lingered a moment too long. A look that shouldn’t have been shared, too warm, too soft. But before that gaze could settle, the door to the room creaked open, and the moment disappeared.

“Camille, I came as soon as I got the call,” Aston’s voice broke through the room, panting hard as if he rushed to get here. Terry nearly growled with irritation. Kali visibly stiffened, her entire demeanor changing as she watched him walk further into the room.

Hmmm, Terry thought. I wonder what that's all about.

“Baby, are you–” Aston’s words cut off abruptly when his eyes landed on Terry. A flicker of confusion flashed across his face, followed by irritation that was quick to harden into something sharper. Terry’s lips curled into a smirk, his gaze unwavering as Aston’s discomfort grew.

“Terry,” Aston greeted through clenched teeth. “What are you doing here?” Terry tilted his head slightly, amused by the way he reacted to him. He could practically taste his wariness. He wanted to be an asshole and say something slick, but for Camille’s sake, he just smiled politely. But before he could say a word, Kali’s voice cut through the silence, her tone full of venom.

“He’s making sure Camille is well taken care of,” she said, her eyes locking onto Aston with a cold, calculated gaze. “Which makes me wonder, why weren’t you here?” Aston’s eyes snapped toward her, a flash of disdain crossing his face. His lips curled into a slight frown as his dislike of her, clearly mutual, seemed to fill the room.

“Kaliyah,” he grumbled.

“Aston,” she shot back just as tightly, emphasizing the syllables of his name as if giving him a discreet warning. Her eyes narrowed in challenge.

Terry raised an eyebrow as they stared each other down.

Camille attempted to break through the rising tension. “Guys, please–”

Aston cut her off, his focus solely on Kali. “Since you must know, Kaliyah,” his voice bordered a snarl, straining to hold onto whatever composure he had left. “I was on the other side of town. For. Work.” Kali’s eye twitched, the tightness of her jaw telling Terry she was close to snapping.

Camille shifted in bed, the effort pulling Terry’s attention back to her. He moved instinctively, reaching out to steady her, to help her sit up. Aston’s eyes flicked over, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. Terry just shot him a harmless grin as he rubbed Camille’s forearm soothingly.

“But I do find it strange that you’re here, Terry.” The sharpness in Aston’s voice was enough to make Terry’s eyebrow raise again, his eyes narrowing slightly. Don’t start something you can’t finish nigga, he thought. He kept his calm, but the tension in the room was thick, the air hanging heavy with animosity.

“I brought her here—”

Aston cut him off, his voice raising. “And how were you able to do that if she was in the office and you weren’t?” His challenge hung in the air, mocking. Terry’s smile faltered. The mask he wore slipped for a fraction of a second, his expression turning cold and dangerous.

Aston faltered, shrinking under Terry’s glare. It was dark and unblinking, like a predator assessing his prey. Terry slowed his breath as his fingers flexed at his sides.

“Aston, this is not an interrogation.” Camille’s voice, low and firm, cut through the charged silence. Between her tone and the icy glare from Terry, Aston’s jaw tightened, but he fell silent.

Just as the room seemed to suffocate under the pressure, the door swung open once again, grasping everyone’s attention. Elijah entered, his presence immediate and commanding. A nurse followed closely behind, balancing a tray with a cup of nearly golden liquid. The sight of it made Terry’s pulse quicken and he let out a quiet, imperceptible sigh of relief—finally.

His body, which had been coiled tight with tension, seemed to relax for the first time since stepping into the room. About damn time.

Elijah’s eyes swept the room, brow quirking at the unexpected number of visitors. “Oh, there are more parties here than I expected,” he remarked, his tone light but observant. “Hello, everyone. I’m Dr. Elijah Baptiste.” His gaze softened as it landed on Camille, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Camille, glad to see you’re awake. Would you like everyone to stay while we discuss your diagnosis?”

Camille opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, Aston cut her off—again.

Damn, this nigga can never shut up, Terry thought, irritation running through him.

“Nope, just me will be fine,” Aston said, his words dripping with possessiveness, a clear attempt to reassert his control. Rage pulsed through Terry. His jaw clenched tightly as he fought the urge to lash out.

Elijah glanced at Terry, confusion momentarily flickering in his eyes, before turning back to Aston with a steady professionalism. “And you are…?” he asked.

Aston’s nostrils flared as though the question itself offended him. “I’m Camille’s fiancé,” he stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The hospital called me when she was admitted. They’re not related to her. He’s just a coworker. And she’s just a friend,” he stated, his voice taut.

Elijah nodded slowly, his gaze shifting back to Terry.

I thought she was your Indulgence, Elijah’s telepathic voice rang out in Terry��s mind.

It’s fucking complicated, he thought back, the statement fueling his irritation.

“Well, thanks for coming in,” Elijah said, his tone clipped as he nodded toward Aston, subtly signaling the conversation was moving on. He turned to Terry and Kali. “If you all don’t mind…” His voice trailed off, signaling for them to leave.

Kali moved first, still visibly disturbed by Aston’s presence. She leaned over the side of Camille’s bed, giving her a gentle hug. She whispered something in her ear that Terry couldn’t catch. When she straightened back up, she met Terry’s eyes, her smile faint but sincere. “Thanks for looking out for her,” Kali said quietly. Terry gave a small nod, the tightness in his chest easing slightly. “Of course, it was no problem.”

Kali then turned to Aston to roll her eyes before she moved past Elijah and the other nurse, vanishing into the hallway.

Terry lingered for a moment, his eyes locking with Camille’s as he squeezed her hand gently. She looked at him, her eyes almost pleading, like she wanted him to stay. But Terry knew better. If he stayed, Elijah would have to peel him off of Aston. And he didn’t need her to see that.

“Get some rest, Camille,” he said softly, his voice steady but edged with a quiet affection. “I’ll see you when you’re okay to come back to the office.”

He held her gaze for one last moment before reluctantly tearing his eyes away to give a subtle nod to Elijah and walked out of the room.

Camille

Camille watched Terry walk out of the hospital room, a heavy ache settling in her chest as she reluctantly let him go. His touch had been so soft, so full of care that seemed to linger even after he had pulled away. She wished that moment could stretch on forever. But the quiet of the room quickly brought her back. She took a slow, steadying breath, pushing the feeling deep within her, regaining her composure. Aston’s gaze pressed against her skin but she refused to meet it. Instead, her eyes fixed onto Dr. Baptiste. Dr. Baptiste gave her an amused look, making her wonder if he observed the moment she shared with Terry. But he just brought his chair closer to her bedside.

“Camille, how are you feeling?” Dr. Baptiste’s voice was calm as he leaned back in his chair, clipboard resting casually on his knees. She offered him a faint smile, her mind still struggling to shake off the thick fog clouding her thoughts.

“I’m okay,” she replied, her voice lacking conviction. “I just… wish I could remember what happened.”

Dr. Baptiste nodded sympathetically, his expression softening. “Terry and I go way back. He told me the details. Apparently, you cut yourself on something sharp in your purse. It was a deep wound, considering all the blood you lost.”

Camille’s forehead creased slightly, her mind reaching for fragments of the missing pieces. “Yeah, but…” She paused, uncertainty threading through her words. “I don’t know. I feel like there was more to it.”

For the briefest of moments, Dr. Baptiste’s gaze shifted, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. It was gone before Camille could fully process it, his calm demeanor returning instantly.

“Well, maybe this will help jog your memory,” he said smoothly, nodding toward the nurse who stood by holding a tray. On it was a small cup filled with what appeared to be apple juice with an almost unnaturally golden hue. “Just a little juice to boost your blood sugar. Down it as fast as you can.”

Still feeling disoriented, she adjusted herself, reaching for the cup. The moment the liquid touched her tongue, her brows knit together in surprise. It was… amazing. The sweetness was rich, more satisfying than any drink she ever had. She swallowed eagerly, but as the taste lingered, something about it gnawed at her memory, a sense of familiarity.

“Well, what if she’s right, Doc?” Aston's voice broke through her haze, his eyes tracking her movements as she drank. “What if Terry didn’t tell us everything? Maybe there’s more to this.”

Dr. Baptiste gave him a look, half dismissive, half irritated, before responding.

His tone was steady but had a subtle edge. “Like I said, Terry and I go way back. He’s not the type to leave things out. I’m sure he wouldn’t have withheld anything, especially not from Camille. He cared enough to bring her here.” His eyes flicked back to Camille, something underlying his gaze.

Aston looked dissatisfied, but he kept quiet, his gaze flickering back to Camille.

“You’ll be fine, Camille,” Dr. Baptiste said, his voice gentle now. “Just a couple more hours here to stabilize your blood levels. But you’ll need to take the next two days off from work. Just to get your strength back up.”

Camille nodded slowly, noticing how exhausted she felt. For a moment, she surrendered to the pull of sleep, but a shift in the room brought her back. She opened her eyes just as Dr. Baptiste rose from his chair.

“Thank you so much, doctor,” she murmured with gratitude.

Dr. Baptiste paused, flashing her another kind smile. “You’re very welcome, Camille. I’ll check in on you again in about an hour.” With that, he gave a curt nod to Aston, who stood silently near the door, before heading down the hallway, his footsteps fading into the distance.

Camille felt Aston’s gaze bore into her. She tilted her head, confused. “Aston, what's wrong?” she asked, her voice sincere.

He crossed his arms tightly, his jaw clenched in frustration. “Why’d you leave the office in the middle of a critical deadline?” His voice sharp and accusing. “What could Terry have possibly needed that was so urgent?”

Camille’s mind scrambled, but the haze still clouded her thoughts. She struggled to recall, everything feeling distant and blurred. “I’m sure it was important,” she said quietly, “but I can’t remember exactly…”

Aston let out a frustrated huff, his expression darkening as he moved to sit in the chair Terry had occupied earlier. “I wonder why that is,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with suspicion, before his attention shifted to his phone.

The silence between them stretched. Camille shrank back against her pillow, his unspoken judgment making her feel small. She sighed, her body surrendering to the overwhelming exhaustion, her eyelids heavy once more. As Aston’s fingers tapped furiously on his phone screen, her mind drifted into the comfort of sleep, thoughts swirling around the unease she felt, not just about the day, but about Aston’s reaction.

Terry

Terry’s leg bounced slightly, the restless motion contrasting the stillness of his sprawled position on his couch. His fingers curled around the glass of bourbon in his hand, the amber liquid swirling in a slow, lazy circle as he gazed out at the Houston skyline against the starry sky. It was nearing the time Elijah had promised to come by to talk to him about the events of the day. A talk Terry had been dreading since he left the hospital, yet knew he couldn’t avoid.

He had originally wanted to cancel. It would only flame his feelings of failure. But the memory of his actions with Camille, the aggression, the lack of control… it nagged at him. He had always been a strong proponent of proper vampire-human interactions—he prided himself on being an enforcer of those boundaries. Yet, here he was, having crossed one of the most sacred lines in their world. And for what? A brief taste of her? A moment of weakness, a lapse in judgment? It was unacceptable. He’d never had an incident like this, ever, and the self-loathing that followed was starting to suffocate him.

But Terry had spent the entire evening lost in his thoughts, replaying the events of the day over and over again, so he knew he needed to hear whatever Elijah had to say. Partnering with an Indulgence is something he never had before. Of course, he had plenty of flings, plenty of fleeting romances with Indulgences. But nothing that he wanted to last forever. Camille was the first to draw him in to the point that he happily wanted to fall head over heels in love. She was everything he wanted and then some. But today showed him that he needed some help, some serious guidance. His bloodlust and sexual attraction were blurring into each other, making Camille enticing in more ways than one.

It was an experience not unfamiliar to supernaturals who chose to partner with humans, but it was always a fine line to walk. He knew what could happen if he wasn’t careful—the rare, horrifying instances when a vampire’s desire for their human partner spiraled out of control and led to injury, or worse, death. Terry shuddered at the thought, gulping down another sip of bourbon, the burn oddly soothing him. He closed his eyes for a moment.

Camille’s safety had to come first. He couldn’t afford to let this spiral into something darker.

That was why, despite his bruised ego, despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t refuse Elijah’s help. He needed Elijah. He was a rare case in their world, an anomaly that everyone aspired to. He’d been married to his Indulgence for over sixty years. Their relationship was something Terry could only dream of—blissful, serene, and above all, stable. It was the kind of union that Terry wanted with Camille. But today showed him that he might not be ready. He needed advice from someone who knew how to keep their desire in check, how to keep things from unraveling in a way that could cause irreparable damage. Elijah had the answers, and Terry was desperate to have them before he made anything worse.

A request for the penthouse elevator, a soft chime that echoed through his home, pulled Terry from his thoughts. He pulled out his phone and opened the surveillance app, checking that the request was coming from Elijah. The screen showed his friend casually pacing in the lobby, prompting him to approve the request. He stood from the couch, finishing his bourbon as he walked towards his front entrance. Just as he placed his glass on his island counter, a knock came from his door. He took a deep breath, further bracing himself before opening the door. Elijah stood behind it, greeting him with a small smile.

“Terry,” Elijah greeted as Terry moved to let him inside. “It’s good to see you again.” Terry chuckled as they dapped each other up and made their way to his central sitting area. “Yeah, it’s like I haven’t seen you since this morning,” he joked back, their laughter filling the space. Their conversation was light for the first thirty minutes. They vented about their jobs, the latest updates in the supernatural world, and everything in between. But, Terry shifted the conversation as he poured him another glass of dark liquor.

“So about today…,” he trailed off, sliding the glass to Elijah. Elijah nodded with a knowing look. “I really fucked up.”

Elijah gave him a sympathetic glance. “Look Terry–”

“I mean, you know me man. I’ve never done some shit like that before,” Terry continued, exasperated.

“Terry–”

“Part of me wants to cut ties and… j-just let her go, but I'm way too fucking obsessed–”

“Terry,” Elijah repeated, his voice calm but firm. Terry’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides. The interruption was maddening, but Elijah was one of the few he actually respected. So, he swallowed the growing rage and kept his mouth shut.

“It happens,” Elijah continued. “We hate when it happens, but it does.”

Terry swallowed the lump in his throat. He could feel the heat rise in his chest, his breath shallow. He couldn’t look at Elijah. Not now. Not while the guilt seemed to consume him.

"The important thing," Elijah went on, his voice softening with a touch of understanding, "is that you stopped yourself. Camille was discharged just fine and will have a reason to have a few days off from work, which she seemed excited about. It worked itself out, so you can’t beat yourself up about it forever."

The words hit Terry like a slap. He blinked rapidly, the sting of unshed tears blurring his vision, his hands shaking at his sides.

Terry’s teeth ground together as the words spilled from him, a low, guttural hiss. “Don’t try and pretend you know how I feel right now,” he spat, but Elijah remained unphased by his crackling fury. “You have no fucking idea.”

Elijah’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t flinch. He set his glass down, his fingers lingering on the rim for a moment before he leaned forward, elbows pressed against his knees.

“You’re right,” Elijah said calmly. “I don’t know how you feel, man. I don’t know at all. But I do know how you would feel if it had been worse.”

Terry’s eyebrows knitted together. “What are you talking about?” Elijah dragged a hand over his face, turning to look out of the huge windows.

“My first Indulgence…I had killed her. Accidentally, of course.” Terry’s eyes grew huge, his anger disappearing as his stomach fell.

“Yo, Elijah man…,” Terry began, “I-I didn’t kno–”

“It was in 1894. A Juneteenth celebration…her name was Violetta…,” he trailed off, as if he was no longer talking to Terry but more so talking to himself. “We had just made plans to get married. And…and I had gotten too excited. And before I could even process it, my teeth were already in her neck.” Elijah turned his attention back to Terry, a single tear sliding down the side of his face. Terry stared back at him, not knowing what to say. He was too mortified.

“She ran away from me, screaming the most heart-wrenching things. I didn’t get a chance to seal the wound, so she just bled out as she ran.” A silent sob shook his frame. “I tried to kill myself so many times, but you know we can’t do that. Then I tried to pay others to kill me, but they turned me down out of pity. So I punished myself the best way I could for over seventy years,” he let out a sad chuckle. “But then, I met Dolores. And I kept trying to run from my feelings. Run from our nature. But after she expressed her feelings for me, I realized that I’d been given a second chance. A fresh start.” Elijah scooted a bit closer to Terry, looking him dead in the eye.

“So yeah, you slipped up today. There’s no doubt about that. But I saw the way y’all looked at each other. That love…it’s real, and it don’t come too often for our kind. So get all your feelings out tonight. But tomorrow and going forward, take advantage of the second chance you’ve been given.” Elijah gripped Terry’s shoulder. Terry nodded, letting out a light sniffle.

“Alright,” Elijah sighed, leaning back and wiping a hand across his face, clearly done with the heaviness of the moment. “Enough of this sad ass shit.” His playful tone pulled a much-needed laugh from Terry. As Terry reached for his drink again, Elijah spoke again, but his tone now full of mischief. “So tell me, how you gonna get rid of that stuck-up white boy? You didn’t tell me she was engaged…and not to you.”

Terry’s eyes flicked to him, a smirk widening on his face as he took a slow sip of his drink. “He’s not gonna be a problem much longer,” Terry said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. The thought of the pending $80,000 in his account made his lips twitch upward. Courtesy of Aston McCoy himself. It was all falling into place.

"Hmmm...I hope so," Elijah continued. "Because I thought you had gotten soft." Terry cocked an eyebrow.

"What makes you say that?" Terry spoke, his voice laced with irritation. Elijah just cracked a small smile.

"Aye man, I'm not tryna doubt you or nothing. But your woman had to go home with another nigga today. The Terry I met back in Harlem all them decades ago? He would've never let that shit happen."

Terry's jaw clenched, feeling his eyes shift out of anger. "I can't just approach this like some fucking savage. This new era, all the fucking cameras, all the fucking eyes on you," Terry gritted.

Elijah's smile just grew. "Yeah, I know. But you might want to speed up this plan of yours...it's been three months. And that white boy seems to be onto you. He might just speed up this marriage thing."

As much as Terry wanted to argue, a quiet, reluctant truth settled deep within him. He couldn’t deny Elijah’s point. He was being too soft. Too cautious. He had been holding back, afraid of causing too much turmoil in Camille’s life. But now, maybe a little disruption was exactly what was needed to finally have her, all to himself. The realization sent a thrill through him.

As Terry and Elijah continued their conversation, the words a dull hum in the background, Terry's mind began to shift. He couldn’t stay in the shadows any longer, playing it safe. His thoughts spiraled toward something darker, more sinister. The idea took root: what if he took his plan to another level? It might be riskier. It might paint him as the villain. He would do whatever it took to make Camille forgive him, to make her see that he was worth the chaos. No matter how far he had to push, no matter how much he had to break along the way.

Stephanie’s song: I Put A Spell on You-Nina Simone

Stephanie

Stephanie eyed the small, weathered shack before her. A chill ran down her spine as she studied the door. Everything about the place felt off. Yet, she knew the answers she sought and the solutions she desperately craved were waiting for her behind the door. But still, hesitation gripped her in a way that was unfamiliar. And that was the last thing Stephanie Hodges was used to. She never hesitated.

She was THEE Stephanie Hodges. A woman who always got whatever she wanted with a mere flutter of her lashes, the curl of her lips, or the perfect, calculated glance. She never needed to beg. She took, without a care of who it impacted. And yet here she was, standing in front of this dilapidated little botanica. It was infuriating. Everything had been within her grasp, except for one thing. One damn thing.

The man vampire, Terry Richmond, had entered her life a little over two months ago. Yet in that short time, he’d completely consumed her. She had never believed in love. She only believed in lust, scheming, and social climbing. But Terry... Terry had undone her. The second he’d walked into her office, she knew she had to have him. His presence radiated with an undeniable allure, an intoxicating blend of power, wealth, and dominance. He was everything she’d ever fantasized about and more.

It didn’t matter that she had been entangled in an affair with her older, established boss, Mr. Grant. Terry’s entire being eclipsed everything. She didn’t just want him; she needed him. So, when he’d fallen into her seductive web within the first week of their interactions at the firm, she’d assumed he would be as simple as her other conquests. Easily secured, just like everything else in her perfectly controlled life.

But then... weeks had passed, and Terry’s interest in her seemed to fade. Slowly at first, but it was undeniable. He stopped asking her out for lunch. The flirtation that had once been so effortless between them had evaporated. She’d tried everything. Subtle touches, lingering glances, suggestive comments. But nothing seemed to reach him. He had pulled away leaving her confused and frustrated. And their sexual relationship had nearly slowed to a stop. During his first few weeks, he was dicking her down on every surface in his office, leaving her on cloud nine every night she went home from work. Now, he only entertained quickies every few days. And while the sex was always enjoyable, it wasn’t as intense and mind-numbing like it was before.

For weeks, Stephanie had turned the puzzle of Terry Richmond over in her mind, studying him from every angle, trying to determine how to draw him back to her. Every attempt to rekindle the spark between them had failed miserably. At work, when she tried to entice him, he would skillfully sidestep her advances, actively avoiding her. And then there was Camille, the ever-present distraction, the woman who seemed to effortlessly claim his attention.

Camille had a way of slipping into his world, always there for lunch, always showing up at work events, always the one to share private moments with him while Stephanie had to watch from afar. It drove her crazy. Stephanie’s mind replayed the countless times she’d seen Camille admiring Terry when he laughed or giving him a look that lingered too long during a conversation, her hand brushing his arm in a way that made Stephanie’s blood boil. Camille seemed to savor every moment of his attention, putting on a coy act while Stephanie’s needs went unnoticed, unfulfilled.

The thought of it had pushed Stephanie to a breaking point. That was why, when she saw Camille eagerly rushing to meet him, she knew it was time to act. To take matters into her own hands. Following Camille that day had been an attempt to put her in her place and make her understand that no one could come between them. But what she had learned about Terry had changed everything. The revelation had shaken her, leaving her reeling with more questions than answers, and suddenly, her approach felt naïve.

At first, she had a clear plan: blackmail him with the video that so clearly demonstrated his otherworldliness. She would use it as leverage, threatening to expose his secret and shatter his reputation, bending him to her will in the process. It seemed foolproof, until doubt crept in. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she had no real grasp of who he was or what he was capable of. He wasn't just a wealthy and well-connected attorney. He was something else entirely that added a chilling layer of complexity. With his power and resources, he could easily erase her from existence without leaving a trace.

At the office, he was always calm, collected, and polite. A perfect picture of composure. But she had learned enough to know that such flawless self-control could easily mask something far more dangerous. His demeanor might very well be a carefully crafted facade, hiding a cold, calculating demon underneath.

So, Stephanie turned to her roots, seeking refuge in the power of her Cuban ancestry. It had been years since she had practiced Santería, so she didn’t dare to try to do anything on her own. Stephanie knew she needed the advice of much more seasoned brujas who could tell her how to tame someone so powerful. They knew the supernatural secrets that could bend even the strongest will. Stephanie had always prided herself on being the one in control, the one who got what she wanted, no matter the cost. And that included embracing something far beyond her own understanding.

Taking a deep breath, Stephanie entered the dimly lit shop with her head held high, her signature arrogance in every step. The walls, lined with eclectic trinkets and dusty shelves, felt beneath her. She sneered inwardly at the ragged curtains and the cobwebs hanging from the cracked ceiling. The thick, pungent scent of burning incense hit her nostrils, making her frown and raise a hand to cover her nose, as if she could ward off the fragrant earthy smoke. The shop was a far cry from the sleek, polished spaces she was accustomed to, but she wasn’t here for aesthetics. She was here for something far greater.

Not to be deterred by the establishment, she continued forward, going straight to the back room that had a single tarot card taped to it: The High Priestess. She didn’t bother to knock, the woman should already be expecting her.

The room was nothing like she expected. Dozens of flickering white candles, their flames dancing in unison, covered every inch of the space except for a narrow path leading to a small, unassuming table in the center. Sitting there was a woman who seemed to be both ageless and elderly. She looked her up and down, nonchalantly, as if Stephanie was unimportant. Stephanie huffed, tossing her hair. Bitch, she inwardly grumbled. The woman cocked an eyebrow in silent acknowledgement, as if she heard the thought.

A sudden slam of the door behind her sent a jolt through Stephanie’s body, and she muffled a startled shriek. The woman only tilted her head slightly, her voice soft but commanding.

“Sit down, mija,” the woman said, her tone almost too light, as if she found Stephanie’s discomfort amusing.

Stephanie hesitated, a flicker of doubt passing through her. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she was in over her head. But she shook the thought off instantly. I have to have Terry, she reminded herself, her resolve hardening. By any means necessary.

With slow, deliberate steps, she maneuvered through the maze of candles in her red-bottomed heels. She eased herself into the chair across from the woman, setting her Birkin bag on the table with a haughty flourish, casting the witch a glance that screamed unimpressed. The woman didn’t even blink, rolling her eyes in response, a gesture that only deepened Stephanie’s irritation.

“So…dearest Stephanie,” the woman began, her voice both silky and sharp. “Our mutual connection told me you’re seeking the devotion of a supernatural being, un vampiro? Is that correct?”

Stephanie nodded, her lips curling into a cunning smile. “He’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more,” she purred. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make him mine. Name your price.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a thick stack of cash with a dramatic flair, slamming it on the table between them.

The witch’s lips twitched upward, but she didn’t pick up the money. Instead, she stared at it as though it were as simple as a dollar bill. “To give you a fair estimate of what this will require,” she said, her voice as smooth as honey, “I need to know what kind of man he is. Can you give me a description of him?”

Stephanie grinned darkly. “I can do you one better.” She chuckled to herself, her fingers flying across her phone screen as she dug through her photo gallery. She found the video she was looking for. Terry, feeding from Camille, the raw, primal nature of it making her shiver. She slid the phone across the table, the screen illuminating the witch’s face.

The woman didn’t touch it. She simply peered down at the video, an impressed glint in her eye. “Ahhh,” she murmured, “So you want to claim one of the highest in the vampire world.”

Stephanie’s eyes narrowed. “You know Terry?” she asked.

The woman looked up from the phone, her eyes locking onto Stephanie’s. “Is that what he calls himself now? I come from a time where he was known as Isaac. I understand the attraction. He’s quite handsome and his connections and wealth were far-reaching when I first came across him. I can only imagine what they are like now.”

Stephanie’s heart fluttered at the thought of Terry at her feet, bound by whatever spell this woman could cast. She imagined a life of opulent shopping sprees, private jets to Aspen, Dubai, and the Maldives, every whim catered to. Her smile widened, lips curving in a predatory smirk as she pulled her phone back into her hands.

“So, are your services good enough to get me Terry?” she asked, her tone dripping with challenge. The woman let out a breathy laugh, her amusement ringing through the space like the toll of a bell. “Of course, mija. I’m the best at what I do.”

Stephanie’s gaze flickered briefly to the shabby surroundings, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows on the cracked walls. Then why do you work out of such a raggedy store, Stephanie thought. The woman’s laughter ended abruptly. Fuck, I forget she can hear thoughts.

The witch’s eyes flashed with a cold knowing. “But,” the woman continued, her voice returning to its unnervingly calm cadence, “Let’s not focus on my skills. Let’s focus on closing this arrangement. You’ll get the powerful assistance you desire, and I’ll get the money I’m owed. Do you have everything you were supposed to bring?”

Stephanie reached into her bag, placing them on the table. A small vial that held her feminine juices. A jar of honey she had spit in. And one of Terry’s hairs that she had found in his office. The woman nodded, pulling the items close to her. “Now we just need one more thing,” she stated, pulling out a sewing needle. Stephanie eyed it curiously. The woman gestured for her hand. Stephanie reluctantly placed her right hand in the woman's palm. With quick precision, the woman stuck her, a droplet of blood pooling at the tip of her ring finger. She brought a dish under her hand, squeezing the finger until several drops hit the dish’s center.

“Now this’ll take time, at least several days. This man…he also dabbles in the dark arts and keeps himself well-protected. I will have to maneuver around the rootwork he has established. Because of that, it’ll be $20,000, and I’ll need half up front.”

Stephanie’s eye twitched as she carefully counted out ten thousand dollars, the stacks heavy in her palm before she slid them across the table. Her fingers lingered on the edge of the money for just a moment before she pushed it forward. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she said as she stood from her seat. The transaction was done, and now all she had to do was wait.

But just as she turned to leave, the woman’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “Before you go, I must warn you. This love spell will be extremely powerful. It should be handled with utmost care because the consequences could be dire. If consumed by the wrong person, they could become violent—”

Stephanie’s mind began to drift, her focus fading with each word. Her gaze wandered absently around the room, the words a blur as she tuned out the endless lecture. She didn’t need a lecture on the consequences of magic; she came for one thing and one thing only: to secure the perfect, tall, dark, and impossibly handsome man.

She envisioned it already. A life of unparalleled luxury and a doting, well-endowed husband who would spoil her in every possible way. Camille, Mr. Grant, all the little nuisances that stood between her and Terry, they meant nothing now. Once Terry was under her spell, not a single inconvenience stood a chance.

a/n: imma be honest, pt. six might be a little late next week because I'm in the middle of midterms😃 But! I might drop 2 parts the following week😌💅🏾

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

@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @23jammy @kaylaahisthebestest- @theogbadbitch @wabi-sabi1090 @hotgyalaroad @nubiagurllll @lovedlover @dimepiece09 @lavaniiii @simplyzeeka @susanhill @next-bex-bet @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @ranikyani @loveschrisbrown20 @daddyslittlevillain @blackchickinthedesert @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @hello-therree @solunaseira @hotebonynearby @key05marie @moebuttta @winorlosetogether @nohatingpplbczhtingpplr @alexinmotion @queencb2462 @kismet83

#terry richmond #terry richmond smut #aaron pierre #aaron pierre smut #rebel ridge #terry richmond fic #terry richmond x black character #aaron pierre fic #aaron pierre x black!oc

245 notes · View notes