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msbigredmachine · 8 months ago

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The Boy Next Door: Chapter Two

MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake's masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine's masterlist

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, violence

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the other pics and gifs.

“Uhhnnn, fuck...baby I’m comin’...”

Angelo’s deep, rough voice broke as he yanked a little too hard on Ivy’s hair, causing her to wince from the sharp pain. He thrust inside her just as hard a few more times before his body seized up, his pelvis mashed against her backside to make her feel him pulsing inside her as he came. Not for the first time, she was thankful condoms were a thing and she always insisted that he had one on him before he touched her; there was no doubt he would get her pregnant the next chance he got with the aim of tethering himself even deeper into her life. It was apparent in the desperation with which his admittedly above-average dick dug all up in her pussy every time they got together. On the bright side, his efforts got the job done…Well, that, along with the frantic circling of her fingers around her clit that never failed to drag her to a long-awaited nut that currently had her moaning noisily into her bamboo sheets. Thank goodness her daughter was a long way down the hallway, fast asleep in her four-poster bed, oblivious to the late night goings-on of her dysfunctional parents.

She hissed with relief when Angelo finally released his vice grip, flopping onto his back, his sweat-slick chest heaving up and down. The same old routine followed, with him lazily and unwisely reaching out for a cuddle, prompting her standard rebuff of rolling away from him. She waited patiently for the gradual shift in his breathing, from heavy to relaxed, signaling that he was out like a light. Glancing over to confirm, she rolled her eyes with a huff. This dude left the condom on. Again. Even in his sleep, he was making her clean up after him. Exhaling heavily, she reached over to carefully slide the thin latex off his dick and tie it up in a knot, climbing out of the bed to dump it in the trash can nearby.

The lights illuminating the paved streets outside her home seeped through her bedroom windows, shedding more light than was necessary considering it was deep into the night. She padded over to the window to draw down the roller blinds, making a mental reminder to herself to keep them closed more often now that the house across was occupied. Her fingers wavered when she noticed that the lights of his bedroom were still on. It piqued her curiosity as to what would be keeping him awake at this late hour. Work, perhaps?

And then, almost on cue, the hulking figure of her new neighbor came into view, and her breath caught.

Roman stepped out of what was probably his bathroom, his towel hanging dangerously low around his waist. His hair was down, long, silky and clearly wet, the droplets of water glistening against his bare chest. He was walking around the room, seemingly acquainting himself with the new space. Ivy was on the money with the athletic physique, unable to take her eyes off his bulging muscles, the ridges of his abs, and the intricate tribal tattoos adorning his right arm, pec and half of his back that only embellished the majesty and beauty of this stranger. Standing there like the voyeur she’d become, she allowed her mind to wander, to wonder what those taut, rippling muscles would feel like pressed against her nakedness, his long hair fanning her face as his big body pinned her down…his voice, deep and rough and needy in her ear, talking her through her pleasure…

So entranced was she in her fantasy that she didn’t realize he had pivoted in her direction, fully facing the window, until it was almost too late. Her eyes widened as his hands slid south, unraveling the towel from his waist…

Gasping in alarm, she quickly turned away, fumbling with the blinds to snatch them shut. She leaned against the wall, her cheeks blazing, hand on her hammering heart as it dawned on her that she’d almost seen him naked.

And yet, as scandalized as she was, a small part of her wished she did.

Damn.

Willing away the disappointment and the stirring in her loins, she dragged herself back to bed, hoping she would get some sleep.

Morning arrived too quickly for her liking, and she was up too early considering it was her day off, with her next shift not until tomorrow. Untangling herself carefully from Angelo’s clingy grasp, she rolled onto her side and checked the time on her phone charging on her nightstand. Seven a.m. was a decent hour to take Duchess out for a morning walk and be back home in time for Zaia to be out of bed so they could make red velvet pancakes together, assuming she wouldn’t be glued to her father’s side like she liked to be.

Climbing out of bed carefully so as not to wake Angelo and kick off her day on a sour note, she threw on a forest-green sports bra and matching leggings from Actively Black, along with a pair of Nike sneakers, and wrapped up her hair in a bun on top of her head. Grabbing her phone and headphones, she stopped by Zaia’s room to check on her. As expected, her baby was sound asleep, buried beneath her Disney Princesses duvet. Ivy would have woken her up to join her but she wanted her to rest; she’d worked so hard all week in school and with her chores and therefore earned this Saturday morning lie-in.

Laying by Zaia’s bedside, Duchess’ head snapped up when the door opened. She bolted across the room towards Ivy, her tail wagging excitedly, bouncing on her hind legs and pawing at her mama’s shins.

"Hi, girl! You awake? You’re a good girl, yes, you are!" Ivy cooed softly, shutting the bedroom door quietly before lifting Duchess in her arms to be attacked with excited licks and doggy breath. "Come on, let’s go for a walk." Grabbing her leash, harness and a water bottle, she headed downstairs and out the door.

The route was a simple one, the expanse of tarred road sandwiched between rows of houses of various sizes and styles leading down a winding path to the public park. The weather was perfect, the fresh air sweeping over Ivy's face with a calming, peaceful feeling that was a stark contrast from the controlled chaos of her life. She let Duchess lead the way, the little dog stopping every now and then to sniff a tree or bark at an innocent squirrel. Another sharp turn round the bend brought them to the entrance of the dog park. Lowering her headphones around her neck, Ivy settled down on a nearby bench, watching Duchess run towards the puppy playground. It was relatively empty with just two other owners and their equally small dogs, but she was sure she’d leave once it became crowded. To pass the time, she scrolled through her unread emails, responding to the urgent ones while keeping a watchful eye on Duchess. A flash of movement to her left caught her attention, and looking up, her heart raced in her chest.

Slowing down to a stop on the pedestrian path, dusting his knees off, was Roman. Even with a beanie and a hoodie covering his head, there was no mistaking his striking features; the prominent cheekbones, the sharp jawline framed by his thick beard. His long-sleeved Nike shirt clung to his upper body, straining the fabric’s futile attempt to contain the burgeoning muscles underneath. Ivy found herself taking a swig of her water due to the heat that had nothing to do with the morning sun.

She shouldn’t have disturbed him. She should have let him go about his day - but her mouth and hand moved faster than her brain, waving from her seat, “Hey Roman!” She watched him glance around in search of her voice, a hint of apprehension on his handsome face before his eyes landed on her. His tight frown bloomed into a bright smile that sparked a sensation similar to the one last night when she was ‘spying’ on him. The way he walked exuded confidence and power, commanding the space around him, as she noticed, to her chagrin, other women doing double takes as he passed by them.

"Wassup, neighbor? This seat taken?" he asked.

"Not at all,” she answered, a little too eagerly as he settled down on the opposite side of her bench, keeping a respectable gap between them which allowed her to gawk…respectfully. His dri-fit shorts accentuated the thickness of his thigh muscles that flexed when he shifted, inadvertently drawing her eyes there. She’d seen a lot of him last night and internally she craved more, craved to see exactly what lay underneath. The sunlight enriched his caramel skin, the light sheen of sweat giving him a vibrant glow. Ivy swallowed hard, willing herself to remain composed. “How’s your morning going?” she asked.

“Great, now that I’m talkin’ to you,” Roman smiled at her, leaning back in his seat to admire her in her sports bra and high-waist tights, her afro curls piled high on top of her head. “You look really nice.”

The blush threatened to burn her cheeks as she tugged shyly at her top. “Thanks. It’s just sportswear though.”

“Maybe, but that don’t change what I said,” he insisted, his deep brown eyes deliberately scanning her body. A shiver swept up her spine at the growing intensity as he looked at her. Flustered, she played it off by looking around for Duchess who happened to be just a foot away, racing two other dogs around the canine condo.

“I see you came alone,” Roman observed, “Your little girl alright?”

“She’s good. Sleeping in. She’s been a busy bee all week so she’s earned the rest. We’re gonna make pancakes when I get back.”

“Hmm, sounds delicious. I heard you call her Zaia? Am I right?”

“Correct. It means ‘precious’ in Arabic.” A fond smile fell over her features at the thought of her bright, beautiful little six-year old angel.

Roman nodded, digesting the information. “It's a great name. Pretty, just like her mama’s.”

Ivy looked away, her grin now bashful. “Here you go again with the compliments.”

“We still on that, huh? You do owe me a couple yourself,” Roman replied with a cute smirk that made her warm all over. “I’m still working on it, tryna find the right time,” she joked.

“Any time is a good time for a compliment.” His smile faltered, his cheery tone hardening slightly, “Unless you’re worried about the boyfriend. He still bein’ a headache?”

Ivy scoffed. She’d almost forgotten about him. Almost. “He's not my boyfriend. We share a child, that’s it.”

“Oh? He made it pretty clear when he was all over you and then tried to jump me.”

She almost laughed at that. One look at Roman quickly erased any scenario where he could be jumped. “About that…I’m really sorry…he can be a little…assertive sometimes,” she began.

But Roman shook his head, his nose turned up. “Don’t apologize for him. He might be your kid’s father but you’re not responsible for his foolishness.”

Most times he didn’t give her a choice in the matter, forced to deal with the mess afterwards. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” she sighed.

“That’s my point. There shouldn’t be a next time,” he replied, staring into her eyes, the sincerity radiating from them unnerving her a little. Her issues with Angelo was the last thing she wanted to talk about, especially with a relative stranger. Thankfully she was given a way out as the playground started to fill up with more people. “Well, I’ve been out long enough. It’s time I headed home,” she announced, getting to her feet. “Duchess! Come here, girl!”

"Cute little puppy. How long have you had her for?" Roman enquired, watching her hook the leash and harness around the puppy.

"About three months. She was Zaia’s birthday present from my friend Gemini. She’ll be eight months old next week. She and Zaia keep me fit with their combined energy," Ivy explained with a laugh, going quiet for a moment. “What happened to your hand, by the way?” She nodded at the white crepe bandage wrapped around his left hand that was peeking through his sleeve.

Glancing down, he cleared his throat and shifted his hand out of view, seemingly embarrassed by his injury. “Oh. Knife wound. I was meal prepping and accidentally sliced my palm. A little bit of bleeding but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Wow, that must have hurt. I can take a look at it if you want, make sure it’s-”

Roman smiled and waved away her concern. “I know that’s your nurse instincts poppin’ out, but I’m fine. Don’t worry your pretty little self. But who knows? Maybe somewhere down the road I might need you for…other things,” he finished with a sly wink.

The lowered bass of his voice had Ivy biting her lip at the blatant innuendo, not missing the way his eyes flickered to her mouth. She grinned sheepishly and shook her head, tugging gently on Duchess�� leash. “Alright then, I’ll leave you to your workout…”

“I’m done, actually, and I’m about to head home. I can drop you off too, if you'd like. I drove here,” Roman offered.

For a split second, she imagined Angelo’s reaction to her pulling up in another man’s car. But the visual was gone as quickly as it surfaced. It was none of his business. “Sure.”

As they approached the parking lot, her eyes widened as he remotely unlocked the doors to a shiny, sleek black Maserati GranCabrio. “Is that yours? Oh, you ballin’, ballin’,” she remarked, noting the blush creep up his cheeks as he opened the passenger’s door for her. “I do alright,” he mumbled.

“Wow. What do you do? I don’t think I’ve asked.”

“I’m a Senior Finance Manager at an accounting firm downtown,” he answered, starting the car and letting the top down. “But I also freelance for private individuals, angel investors, pro and college athletes. I mainly work remotely, so you’ll be seeing me at home often.”

Ivy settled in her seat, awed by the lush beige color of the interior, feeling slightly intimidated being inside such an expensive car. “Well, they’re treating you real well,” she said.

“They’d better, I work my ass off for ‘em,” Roman chortled, backing out of the parking lot.

Conversation flowed easily on the drive home. Ivy did her best to keep her eyes on the road, but she couldn’t resist taking the occasional peek at Roman while they chatted. She noticed he was doing the same, sprouting more butterflies in her belly. As they pulled up to their street, he killed the engine next to his sidewalk. A tentative silence fell between them that would probably have been suffocating if it weren’t for Duchess’ routine panting. Ivy dared another glance at the big man, the feeling in her stomach intensifying as those gorgeous eyes of his lingered on her again.

“Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it,” she whispered, gathering Duchess in her arms.

Roman smiled. “Not a problem. Tell Zaia I said hi.”

“I will.” Another long look, another grateful grin before she stepped out of the car and crossed the street towards her front door, fully aware that his gaze was still on her, fully aware that she liked his gaze on her. A lot.

However, a deep frown replaced her giddy smile when the door swung open, Angelo standing there, his face like thunder. The darkening of his light eyes as he glanced over her shoulder and the sound of the Maserati’s door slamming shut told her the two men had locked metaphorical horns, the tension pulsing from both sides.

“What the fuck! I know I ain’t just seen you come out of his car,” Angelo hissed.

“Wassup, man. Ivy, you good?” Roman called out behind her. Stoking the fire.

Quick to douse it before it raged, Ivy threw a smile his way. “I’m fine! Thanks again!” Not waiting for a reply, she ushered Angelo back into the house and set Duchess on her feet, the puppy immediately dashing away in search of Zaia. “If you must know, I ran into him at the park and he offered to bring me home,” she explained, entering the kitchen. “I had to apologize to him for that disrespectful crap you pulled yesterday. I get along with all my neighbors and you’re not about to fuck that up for me.”

“Get along, huh? Zaia coulda seen you. How you think that’s gonna look, her mama joyriding with some other dude, huh?” Angelo demanded, his eyes narrowed accusingly.

Incensed, Ivy spun around, glared at him. “Are you using my daughter to gaslight me, Angelo? Seriously?”

“Our daughter, Ivy! You out here lookin’ like a thot and for what? Is that the example you wanna set for our kid? Where’s your sense of self-respect?”

Clearly, the audacity of the man she called her daughter’s father knew no bounds. “Respect?! Like the respect you showed me when you cheated on me?” Ivy countered, crossing her arms, fire in her eyes. “When you only came crawling back because that bitch dumped your slow ass and left for California? When you refused to be in ‘your kid’s’ life until you had a DNA test done, despite your dumbass knowing you’re the only one I was with? Refresh my memory, Angelo!”

Silence. Deafening. Tense. Truth.

Angelo shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke, his tone low and exasperated. “Why you keep doin’ this shit, Ivy? How many times do I gotta apologize for that?”

“I don’t want your apology. I don’t need it,” she snapped. “You lost my trust a long time ago and nothing you say or do will ever change that. Period.” She trailed off, focusing on the clock on the wall like she’d learned to rein in her emotions. It was only eight o’clock and she had a headache already. Rinse and repeat. “Don’t you got some conference to be at?” she threw at him, eager for him to be out of her face.

Bristling at her harsh dismissal, Angelo sucked his teeth, snatching his belongings off the countertop. “Ol’ meathead ass gives you some attention and now you got a fucking attitude.” His sigh was heavy and dramatic as he finally, thankfully walked away. Her eyes closed with a sigh of her own, the familiar gnawing in her chest surfacing as she overheard her daughter’s sniffles from the living room pleading with her daddy not to go, him soothing her and promising that he would be back soon. Her heart broke for Zaia, but selfishly, she was glad he was out of her space, even going as far as to wish, yet again, that he could take it one step further and be out of her life, too.

A crime documentary come to life.

The news reporter stood in the neck of the woods, under the shaded protection of a few giant sequoias and a couple of smaller deciduous trees, a short distance away from a clearing that was cordoned off with caution tape guarded by several uniformed cops. In the background, a body bag was being loaded onto a gurney. The face of the victim splashed across the screen made Ivy’s blood run cold.

She’d seen the young woman, Rhea, just three days ago at the hospital. They didn’t interact, but she was hard to forget with her pale skin, numerous tattoos and goth clothing that stood her out from all the other patients at the Gynecology ward. Never did Ivy imagine she’d be dead just days later. Murdered. The news said she had been reported missing yesterday and was found by a jogger, bound and gagged with her throat slit from ear to ear. The woods were close to the dog park, so to know that such a horrific crime was committed so nearby, while she was out there just this morning with Duchess, sent chills down her spine.

“I’m still in shock,” she confided in her best friend Gemini over FaceTime, adjusting her iPad on her kitchen island. “I remember seeing her in the hospital earlier this week. She was so young, barely in her twenties. Who could have done that to her?”

“That’s what everyone’s trying to figure out,” Gemini said, her expression grim as she lounged on her patio. “I spoke to Officer Gable. He says she was killed in her home then her body was dumped in the woods either last night or early this morning.” She dropped another bombshell. “And get this…this hasn’t been made public yet, but they also found a positive pregnancy test in her backpack.”

Ivy clapped a hand over her mouth, floored. That poor girl was pregnant?! “Oh my god.”

“I know, it’s wild. They’re looking for her boyfriend, Dominik. Apparently he’s outta town but they’re ruling him as the prime suspect,” Gemini went on, “If you ask me, I think there might be a serial killer on the loose. She’s not the only one that’s turned up dead in the last few months in the surrounding counties.”

If it weren’t for the severity of the situation, Ivy would have rolled her eyes. “What? Gem, don’t start with all that again.”

“Girl, you haven’t been following this like I have. Similar cases happened in the last three months in Fairfield and Middlesex. A couple of twenty-something year old women. Throats slit, dumped in ditches and bushes. The M.O.’s are all the same.”

Casting a quick glance over at the living room where Zaia was dancing with Duchess to ‘The Veggie Dance’ by Gracie’s Corner, Ivy shifted to a quieter side of the kitchen to prevent her baby from overhearing this gruesome conversation. “Well, let’s not jump to conclusions when the police don’t even have all the facts. What does the group think about this?” she asked, referring to the local Neighborhood Watch of which Gemini was a member. In the three years she had lived here, they had only dealt with vandalism and break-ins. To her knowledge, nothing this violent had ever occurred in this harmless, almost sleepy little town, and it spooked Ivy that it happened so close to home.

“We’re having a meeting tomorrow to update everyone and address safety concerns we know will be brought up. Make sure no one’s panicking unnecessarily.” Gemini chuckled at the trepidation on her friend’s face. “Girl, relax. Zaia, Duchess and I will protect you.” There was a brief pause as she stood up from her lounge chair and walked around her backyard pool. “Want me to come over later? I haven’t seen my two babies in a while.”

Enticed by the thought of having company that wasn’t Angelo, Ivy happily replied, “Of course, babe, you never have to ask. How about dinner tonight?”

“You know I could never say no to your cooking.” Gemini wrinkled her nose. “But if that bitch baby daddy of yours is still lurkin’ then I’ll pass.”

“Nope. He’s away for the weekend,” Ivy assured her.

“When will I hear he’s away for good?” Gemini prodded, her words drawing a sigh of defeat from Ivy. It said a lot that none of her friends got along with Angelo. If she had a dime for every time Gemini warned her to get rid of him, she’d be living in the Hamptons instead. But she understood that she was only looking out for her and she would always appreciate it and reciprocate accordingly.

Beautiful, wisecracking and often cynical, Gemini was a successful, high-powered corporate lawyer with a love for fashion trends and (Ivy called this an obsession) crime and mystery shows that fed into her crazy, oft-amusing conspiracy theories. Like Ivy, she often had it tough with relationships, swearing off men every couple of months. It didn’t help that suitors were usually intimidated by her financial status and her brash, blunt nature. But all of that also came with a heart of gold. Ivy would never forget her hospitality, being the first to welcome her and Zaia with open arms when she first arrived in town. Helping her secure the mortgage on her house. Taking Zaia to the local dog shelter on her birthday and pairing her little girl with the most loyal companion she would probably ever have. She was the life of the party everywhere she went, including Ivy’s household, as she sauntered through her doorstep later that evening with a big bottle of Pinot Noir and an even bigger hug for her favorite niece. The wine was very welcome, as Ivy was forced to abstain around Angelo who was a recovering alcoholic.

Together, the women moved the food to the dining table, with little Zaia playing her role as the dutiful assistant to her mama and aunt and filling up Duchess’ food and water bowls. As they settled down to eat, a knock on the front door startled them, their heads whipping in its direction. Gemini exchanged a look with Ivy. “Expecting someone else?”

“No…” With a heightened sense of caution, Ivy crept towards the door and opened it, surprised to see Roman standing behind it. “Hey,” she greeted, a hint of concern in her tone. “What’s up? Everything alright?”

“Hi…wow,” His greeting was distracted, rendered temporarily speechless as he took in her sweater minidress that clung to her generous curves. “Uh…sorry if this is a bad time, but I was wondering if I can borrow some sugar? I’m trying to bake cookies for my office party in the morning and I haven’t got time to run to the store.” Scratching the back of his head sheepishly, he continued, “I know it’s cliche as hell, but I thought I’d come over and ask since your cooking smells so delicious.”

Corny request or not, it was way too charming to turn down. Not that she would. “Mr. Compliments does it again. Come on in.” She motioned for him to follow her inside and into the warm, homey atmosphere of her kitchen. His eyes glossed over the spread of food on the table, then fell upon the two other sets of eyes staring back at him, one innocent, the other suspicious. “I see I’ve interrupted dinner, sorry about that, ladies,” he said, a demure, friendly smile gracing his lips as he waved.

Gemini got to her feet, almost burning a hole through this stranger with her sharp gaze. “Ivy, who is this?” she demanded with an attitude, making Ivy shake her head behind Roman’s back. Her friend always had a hard time warming up to new people.

“Gem, this is Roman, my new neighbor. He moved across the street a couple of days ago. Roman, this is my friend Gemini,” she introduced them, watching Roman extend his hand, the other woman hesitating for a long beat before shaking it. “Hi, Gemini. Nice to meet you.”

Gemini gave him a tight smile. “Hi. So you’re the one who got that big ass house.”

Well, that went as well as it could have.

“Zaia, wanna say hello to Mr Roman?” Ivy encouraged her daughter. The little girl cocked her head to the side, and Roman noticed how much she resembled Ivy at that moment. “Hello, Mr Roman. You’re really tall,” she pointed out, her eyes filled with awe.

“Thank you Zaia, I get that a lot,” he laughed, crouching down to pet Duchess who had bounded over happily, recognizing him from earlier this morning. Ivy rummaged through her walnut kitchen cabinets looking for the bag of sugar she had purchased a month or two ago. Locating it, she handed it to Roman along with a small-sized cookbook. “Here. You can use as much as you need. And I earmarked the page for the recipe for chocolate chip cookies, in case you need it.”

“You are so kind. I appreciate that,” said Roman, his deep brown eyes shifting downwards shyly. The subtle action did something to her, compelling her to utter next,

“Would you like to stay for dinner? We’re having Cajun chicken pasta and Caesar salad,” she spoke up, ignoring the look Gemini leveled at her. It was the way his eyes softened right away, clearly touched by her gesture, that let her know she did the right thing.

“I’d love to.” His smile lit up the room, warming Ivy’s heart. This was her house. She could invite anyone she wanted. Attraction aside, Roman seemed like a really sweet guy that just needed new friends in this new town.

In no time though, he and Zaia became fast friends, discussing everything from their favorite cartoons and hobbies to their favorite subjects at school, and the rather funnier topic of why the adults could have wine and she couldn’t. Even Gemini seemed to warm up to him over the course of dinner, also seduced by his charm and wit. Watching them all talking and laughing caused a funny sensation to stir within Ivy, but she banished any wayward thoughts before they had the chance to settle.

Afterwards, Roman began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Ivy to rush over before he could move too far. “Er, no booboo. You’re a guest here.” She turned to her daughter. "Baby, why don't you take your fruit salads to the living room and turn on the TV for Mr Roman?” she suggested.

“Yes, ma’am! Come on, Mr Roman.” Zaia’s little fingers closed around his thick forearm, Roman briefly glancing back at her mother as he was all but dragged away, Ivy simply giving him a reassuring smile as they disappeared from the kitchen.

“You like him.”

Never one to beat around the bush, was she? Gemini’s words shook Ivy inwardly as she fought to maintain a poker face. “Girl, we’ve only known each other for a couple of days.”

“And he likes you,” Gemini continued, easily rebuffing her lame excuses. “I saw the way y’all kept looking at each other, you giggling like a damn school girl at his jokes. You could cut the tension with a damn steak knife. I wonder how Angelo’s gonna feel about that.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about Angelo’s feelings?”

“Never. But I bet he’d combust into flames if he was here,” Gemini smiled evilly.

Sighing heavily, Ivy loaded the last plate in the dishwasher. “Do you know he got into it with Roman on the first day? A whole shouting match. Barely twenty-four hours since the new neighbor moved in and he’s already fighting the guy. This was just me kinda trying to make up for it.”

“What?! I’d love to see that fight. My money’s on the dude that looks like a linebacker.” The stretch of silence that followed was ominous, and Ivy could already forecast her next words. “I’ll admit. He seems…nice. Sexy as hell. Charming and all that shit. But I need you to be careful, hun. There's an energy about him that I can’t put my finger on.”

Unsure she was ready for this lecture, Ivy rubbed her temples. “Judgmental much? You only just met him.”

“I’m good at reading people. You know this.”

“And I’m just being a good neighbor. You know this.”

“I do. You can’t help yourself, my sweet, wonderful bestie,” Gemini playfully nudged her friend with her shoulder. “But don’t forget you have a young daughter to look out for. I don’t want either of you to get hurt by getting too close too fast.”

Taking in a calming breath, Ivy spoke again, slow and measured to keep the peace. “Gem. I love you and I appreciate you always. But I’ll be okay. I promise,” she answered, her eyes shining with resolve.

As the two women continued to gossip, Roman stood silently by the entrance of the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he listened to every word.

Another long, tough week segued to another weekend of needed rest which found Ivy relaxing in her newly purchased hanging daybed, watching her daughter and her puppy play together as 2000s R&B tunes wafted through the Bluetooth speakers stationed in her backyard. However, her watchful eye was a bit distracted today as it kept glancing over her picket fence for any sign of Roman, who seemed to have vanished without a trace in the past few days. His outdoor chairs remained unoccupied, no coffee mug on his side tables, the house as quiet and empty as it was before he moved in. The serial killer discourse with Gemini and the feedback from the Neighborhood Watch had her feeling slightly more agitated these days, and as absurd as it was, she found herself hoping that her new neighbor hadn’t suffered the same fate as Rhea…

There was no need to worry. Maybe he was caught up with work, or was away visiting friends or family. Either way, she found herself missing his looming yet comforting presence, missed seeing the crinkles around his eyes that accompanied his sunny smile, longed for the longing glances they’d shared far too many times to count now...

Blowing out her cheeks, she leaned back and closed her eyes, hoping to clear her head. For someone who she just met, he was on the brain way too much. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. At all.

“Hi Mr Roman!”

Zaia’s excited voice, as well as the deep one that followed her daughter’s greeting, startled her from her thoughts as her eyes flew back open, landing on his big frame as he stood at the fence that separated their homes. Ivy rose to her feet, trying to ignore the relief, excitement and nervousness bubbling inside her as she approached him slowly, their eyes locked. Other than the bags forming under his irises, he was still as handsome as ever, his cable-knit sweater and dark jeans giving off that polished, modelesque aesthetic she’d become accustomed to.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he said to her, the sound of his voice deep and soothing and sorely missed.

“Hey, stranger. Been a minute. Are you okay?” she asked, getting her answer from the way he dragged a big hand down his face with a loaded sigh. She noticed the bandage was gone. “How’s your hand?”

“Good as new.” Roman lifted his now bare hand and rotated it for emphasis. “As for my absence, just work stuff. Back-to-back late hours. It be like that sometimes. I hope you didn’t miss me too much.” He met her stare with a knowing smile, the same smile that made her swoon since the day they first met, and not the first time had her averting her gaze, tugging coyly at the hem of her retro Backstreet Boys t-shirt.

“I never got to properly thank you for dinner, and for the cookie recipe,” he continued, “It was a big hit at the office, everyone loved it.”

Ivy beamed. “Aww, that’s so sweet. I’m glad to hear that.”

“Man, you saved my ass, that’s for sure. You’ve been so wonderful to me, Ivy, and I was hoping I could repay it by taking you out to dinner sometime.” Gauging her raised eyebrows, he chuckled softly as he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Ay, I woulda stayed home and cooked somethin’, but my skills could never measure up to yours or my wife’s.”

Wife.

This was the first time he’d mentioned a spouse of any kind. There was no ring on his finger, so there was a story there, one she felt compelled to know more about.

“Your wife…Is she not here with you?” she asked, treading lightly on what she could already tell was a sensitive subject.

Roman was silent for a moment, then when he spoke again, his voice was a little more than a hoarse whisper. “Nah, she isn't. She, uh, passed away last year.”

That explained it. The haunted expression she perceived lurking behind the vibrance of his eyes. Carrying the burden of grief and heartbreak that she empathized with more than he would ever know. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Clearing his throat, he managed a nod, returning the sincere look she gave him. “Thanks. It’s been…rough, to say the least. But I’m hangin’ in there. One day at a time, ya know?”

He looked so sad, so worn down by opening up about his loss, and it tugged at her heartstrings. Without thinking, she reached out to rub his arm, offering him comfort, solace. When his eyes shut at her touch, she feared she had toed a line, crossed it, even. Until he opened them again, the sadness wiped away by a searing heat she felt in her bones. Her heart raced as he shifted their hands to link their fingers together, sending a defibrillator’s worth of electricity through her curvy figure. Fuck. He was looking at her that way again. All intense and serious and sexy and all sorts of tempting. She didn’t want him to ever look away.

There was no denying the mutual attraction that simmered between them. It was clear as day. But it was also clear that he was still grieving and was lonely and craved some semblance of comfort. Yet, she found herself wanting to give him that comfort. She wanted to get to know him. She wanted to jump over the fence and into his sturdy arms, wanted to kiss those soft-looking lips of his. To know what his hair felt like between her fingers…

How she missed it, she wasn’t sure. The roar of the engine of the Lexus pulling into the driveway, the owner of the vehicle storming through her house. She’d been so lost in Roman and in his aura and the intimate moment they were sharing that she hadn’t even heard Angelo barreling into her home like he always did until he was standing in front of them. Her deer-in-the-headlights countenance could not have helped her cause as Angelo looked from her to Roman and then back again, zoning in on their entwined hands, the bewilderment on his face giving way to blind wrath.

“Motherfucker, I thought I told you to stay away from my girl!” Swiping Ivy aside with enough force to send her crashing against the fence, he shoved Roman hard in the chest, knocking him a few steps back. “Oh I see what this is! You wanna fuck my woman, huh?”

“Angelo stop!” Ivy yelled as in the distance, Zaia began to cry. Grimacing through her pain, she tugged him by the arm and dragged him forcibly away, which was a tough task as he was nearly a foot taller than her, outweighed her by a good fifty pounds and vibrated with misplaced rage. Glancing behind her, she watched with an almost morbid fascination as Roman’s disposition completely shifted, his gorgeous face twisted with unbridled fury.

“You put your fucking hands on me?!” In what seemed like slow motion, the much bigger and much taller man leapt smoothly over her fence like it was nothing. He propelled forwards with long strides like an angry bull across her backyard and into her house in a matter of seconds. “A’ight, I’m tired of being humble! You wanna fuss like a lil’ bitch, let’s go!”

Guiding Zaia and Duchess to safety, Ivy’s anxiety reached a fever pitch as the two men stood literally nose to nose sizing each other up in the middle of her living room. “Guys, please! Zaia’s here!” she pleaded.

Angelo puffed out his chest as he eyeballed his adversary smugly. “Don’t get yourself hurt cuz you tryna comfort my bitch or my kid when I ain’t around. You in my house, fool,” he threatened.

Thick eyebrows raised in cruel amusement, Roman looked around the house. “Funny, I don’t see your name or your face anywhere.” He leaned in closer, his next words loud enough for only the other man to hear, “But pretty soon, your bitch gon’ be screamin’ my name and sittin’ on my face,” he bragged, pointing at his chin, hoping, praying that the punk bitch would take the bait.

Too easy.

With teeth bared, Angelo swung at him. Wildly and carelessly enough for Roman to dodge easily and retaliate with his huge fist smashing into the other man’s face. There was an ugly cracking sound, and blood spurted from Angelo’s nose as his head snapped back and he stumbled backwards.

“Stop it! Stop it right now!” Ivy cried, but it was to no avail as Angelo lunged again, crashing into Roman. She threw herself between them, trying and woefully failing to pull the warring men apart who were seeing nothing but red as they beat the crap out of each other.

“Daddy, stop fighting! You’re gonna hurt Mama!”

Zaia, bless her brave little heart, was at her father’s side, tugging desperately on his sleeve. It all happened so fast, Ivy only able to see the moment Angelo lashed out blindly, his hand smacking Zaia right in the face. Her scream of pain as her little body collapsed on the ground pierced the air, plunging the room into stone cold silence.

“Mama!” Zaia burst into fresh tears as she clutched her face with one hand, the other reaching out to Ivy who quickly rushed over, scooping her into her arms and gently cradling her little head as she wailed loudly and clutched at Ivy for dear life.

A bloodied Angelo clambered to his feet, visibly devastated by his mistake. “Baby…Princess, I’m so sorry…Daddy didn't mean—”

“No! Don’t touch her!” Ivy snapped, backing away. Enough was enough. “I told you to stop. I told you!” Grasping her baby carefully, she glowered at him through unshed tears of anger. “Get the fuck out of my house! Now!” she hissed.

Swallowing hard, Angelo edged forwards again, his eyes full of regret and focused on his daughter sobbing into her mother's shoulder. “Zaia-”

“I said get out!” Ivy shouted again, feeling for the first time in a long time, nothing but disgust towards her ex-boyfriend. “I’ve had enough of your childish bullshit, enough of you!” She hated cursing in front of her baby girl, but her father had pushed her to her absolute limit. “Leave and never come back. You’re not welcome here anymore.” He could perform his fatherly duties from across town. Today was the last day he was setting foot in this house.

Stunned, his face contorted indignantly at her words. “You playin’, right? You seriously gonna do this? It was an accident! Zaia, come here. Come to Daddy,” He extended his hands towards his daughter, his features sagging in dismay when she burrowed deeper into Ivy’s bosom, refusing to look at her dad as her sniffles intensified.

“She asked you to leave. Several times.” Roman towered over Angelo menacingly, his big body shielding Ivy and Zaia. “Don’t make her repeat it again.”

Angelo tilted his chin defiantly. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you deal with me. I’ll be happy to whoop your ass again,” Roman said simply, silently daring the son of a bitch to make a wrong move.

“Baby, you trippin’. That’s my daughter! This meathead nigga needs to know that he’s oversteppin’! You’re mine!”

“No I’m not!” Her reply was cold and exhausted. “We’ve been over for years, Angelo! Get that into your thick skull and get out of my life!”

Scoffing snidely, the man’s blood-stained sneer was a frightening visual as he walked backwards out the front door, talking his shit on his way to his car. “You’re not keepin’ me away from my child. You need me, Ivy. You’ll come crawling back,” he growled, then pointed angrily at Roman, “And whoever the fuck you think your bitch ass is, bet, I’mma see about you...”

Roman stood in the driveway, muscular arms crossed over his torn, blood-stained sweater, watching like a hawk as the piece of shit backed out onto the road and drove off. He looked down at Ivy to his left. “Are you oka-”

But she had already retreated into the safety of her house, slamming the door shut. Roman returned his attention to the Lexus driving down the street, silently vowing that today would be the last time Angelo would ever be seen again.

Thanks for reading and thanks again to this anon for the story idea. Your replies and reblogs would be much appreciated if you enjoyed!

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that-one-anxious-mango · 5 months ago

Text

sweet negotiations

summary: terry finds himself in a series of negotiations and comforts with his wife after a key asset in their home is compromised.

pairing: terry richmond x black reader (Dallas)

content: fluff, allusions to nsfw acts, some mild crying (hormones)

a/n: hello there and welcome! after looking for some more fluffy terry fics and almost crashing out when I couldn't find them, I decided to just start writing some that will all take place in the same universe titled 'thunder and lighting’ which will follow you, terry, and the antics of domestic and kinky married life. this is the first of many to come. so enjoy, like, comment, and reblog :)

" I said no." Terry, his voice soft and tired, sounded off the freshly painted sage green walls of nursery, “ Now, stop pouting and hand me the second screwdriver on the chair, please.”

But instead of moving to fulfil his request, you stay planted in your spot by the door, still pouting, possibly harder now as you looked down to inform your companion of the mistreatment.

“ You hear that, muffin? You hear how Daddy is being mean to us.” You playfully patted at your swollen stomach, while being sure to throw your husband an extra pouty expression—bottom lip puckered and all. “ Why won’t he be nice and feed us, huh?”

In this moment of time you were about five months pregnant with yours and Terry's third child. And while he absolutely adored seeing you like this, barefoot, in one of his old band shirts and low shorts, with a scarf on your head, and thick bifocals sitting neatly at the bridge of your nose as carried his baby. He could do without the sullen expression on your face as an accessory.

“ Baby, ain’t nobody being mean to you by telling you that you can’t have a half a pint of ice cream for breakfast.” Terry's eyes glance at you, before turning his attention back to the half done wooden crib he was working on. “ Now, if you want me to make you some eggs, toast, or oatmeal. I will. But you ain’t having that this early in the morning.”

“ If at all today. Need to watch what you’re eating more carefully, Mama.” He reminded you. “ Remember what Dr. Kaltura said about watching excess sugar and salt intake. This is serious.”

Quickly the words of your OB flashed through your brain after it had been found that your blood sugar had been a tad higher than she’d liked, a fate that had carried on from your previous pregnancy with your twins into this one.

And of course the minute your husband had caught wind of this, he had come out of retirement from the sugar task force as he now micromanaged and policed every and all things you consumed for the foreseeable future.

“ But Terryyyy.” You whined, “ That’s what both of us want, Poppa.”

Still despite your efforts, he wouldn’t budge.

“No. She doesn’t want that. You do’.” He pointed out, getting up to grab his needed tool,“ Besides, there isn’t anymore anyway.”

“ Yes, he absolutely does. “ You slyly corrected your husband’s wishful thinking, “ And what do you mean there isn’t anymore? Did you throw out my ice cream, Richmond?! Cause I would absolutely hope that’s not what you’re insinuating.”

He sighed, noting the way your eyes turned wild at the thought of your husband touching your beloved sweet treat.

He knew better.

Cause that would be too far and he knew it.

“ No, ma’am.” He simply said, moving back to his work, “ Not this Richmond.”

“ However, our dear Teensy Richmond may have eaten the rest of it last night after dinner for dessert when you went upstairs to take your bath.” He referred to one your soundly sleeping six year old daughters just down the hall.

Immediately a frown found a home on your face as you said, “ Wha—I thought I left out pieces of the pecan pie for ya’ll to have. Why were there cute tiny little grubby hands on my ice cream, Poppa?!!”

You huffed, recalling how you had distinctively cut and plated three different pieces of a pecan pie, one large and two small, for your little family to consume after a delicious dinner of lamb chops and smothered potatoes with smoked asparagus.

“ You did.” He confirmed your thoughts , “ But our baby requested to have her pie…a la mode. Which meant a scoop of some of your rocky road was needed as that was the only ice cream left in the freezer.”

“ And as you know, our Tiny Richmond isn’t too fond of rocky road. So she had hers plain jane with glass of milk.” He furthered his explanation.

And although you wanted to be mad at your baby’s little sweet tooth, you couldn’t be, because she got it honest. Still you couldn’t shake off this strange and sudden feeling of…well sadness…that coursed through your body at the thought of the empty ice cream container sitting downstairs in the garbage.

“ Yeah, but if you only gave Teensy a scoop of it. And Tiny didn’t have any, there should be some left.” You tried rationalizing in the same manner of if Johnny had two apples…

Until it came to you, “ Unless…”

You looked to him and as if he could really read your thoughts, he held a sheepish expression on his face, as he knew what was next to come, “Terrance seriously?!” You hadn’t meant to, but you stamped your feet lightly against the shiny hardwood floor. “ I can’t believe your big eared ass ate my ice cream.”

And just like that your brief moment of sadness has morphed into hormone filled rage.

To which your husband found oddly adorable doing his best to keep a smile off his face, remorse riddled in his tone when he said, “ I’m sorry, Precious. She didn’t wanna eat alone. And since Tiny wasn’t going to have any, I may have had a scoop…or two myself to help finish it off. But it’s okay. We can get more at the store later.” He reasoned, screwing in nut B to pole B.

By now he was expecting his thunderous woman of a wife to do what she does best, which is make noise about the fact that the rest of her brood ate the ‘ one damn thing the baby allows her to keep down’, but instead he was surprised to look over and see you standing there silent—with tears collecting just at the edge of your waterline. Frown deep. Shoulders slumped.

“ Baby….” He called out in a knowing tone, looking at the way your mouth had slightly turned down and your arms had wrapped around your body, “ C’mon now, Precious. It’s alright. ”

But almost as if it was the release words for your tears, you quickly found your fingertips becoming increasingly wet from wiping the streams away from your cheeks as you began to head toward the door. Slightly embarrassed at your lactose driven waterworks.

Getting up with a sigh, he wasted no time making his way over to you, big hands coming to cup your waist and guide you over to the creme rocking chair, moving all the tools on it to the floor.

It didn’t take long for him to sit and guide you on his lap, an arm wrapped tight around your waist while a calloused hand came to rub against the damp soft apple of your cheek.

“ C’mere, pretty baby.” He pecked your lips, tasting the salt of your tears, “ You know I don’t like it when my woman is unhappy. Especially when you’re crying.”

“ I just can’t help it.” You mutter, partially frustrated with your inability to get a hard grasp on your emotions. “ I just really wanted it. And I mean I know it’s not that serious enough for me to be crying over. And it may seem dramatic but- ”

“ But it made you upset and that’s okay. You don’t have to explain or try and justify you wanting to cry to me, Baby. It’s fine.” He affirmed, a hand coming to rub at your belly, “ I know this one has those emotions a tad high, and I’m sure Teensy and I blowing up your ice cream stash ain’t helping.”

A smile fainting at your lips, at the thought of your husband and daughters sitting at the dining room table, talking and laughing over their late night dessert.

“ So once the twins wake up and we have breakfast we can all take a family trip to the store and grab some more, alright?” He said.

“ Mmm. And some more Oreos? And Miss Vickie’s Jalapeño?” You rubbed your eyes before looking at him intently, a smirk playing on his face, “ Ya’ know for the pain and suffering caused.”

“ Hmm. I see.” A hand traveling to your thigh, “ Well for your pain and suffering I am willing to offer you a pint…not a a half baby…but a full pint of rocky road, with a bag of the chips.”

“ Mmm. But what about my Oreos.” You mused.

He shook his head, “ Nope. Not on the table, beloved. Too much sugar.”

“ Mmm. I dunno. Doesn’t sound fair. I mean I already was owed the ice cream. And while the chips are a good gesture of faith. I feel I deserve more for this indiscretion.”

He was silent, still smiling at the determination in your filled out cheeks when he said, “ Fine. Counter offer. Pint of the rocky road, bag of chips, and I’ll throw in a bubble bath and personal back massage from yours truly after dinner.” Your breath hitched, feeling a hand slip underneath your bottom to palm the bit of exposed skin you had peeking from under your night shorts.

“ Just for the record. What kind of massage would this be? ” You coyly inquired, knowing full well what kind he meant.

He moved his mouth to your ear, “ One with a guaranteed happy ending. For us both it seems.”

And how could you deny that?

“ Fine. I accept your counter offer with the added addition that oil will be used for my massage.”

“ Of course m’am. No other way I’d do it.” He assured, rubbing circles in your thighs.

“ Good.” You said.

“ Great.” He one upped, “ Now, how should we close this deal? I say with a kiss.”

“ Mmm. “ You hummed, “ I dunno. I think I may need more than a kiss to seal it. And I also think we may need to try out and see how sturdy this chair is. Ya’ know for safety reasons.”

“ And do you suggest we do that?” His voice low.

“ I dunno.” Your lips find his cheek then his ear, “ We’re already seeing how much weight it can hold, but I wonder how much…rocking or bouncing it can take.”

“ Right, safety reasons.” He mumbled across the skin of your neck, “ Well if that’s the case then—”

“ Poppa? Mommy? ” The little voice called out from the hallway.

“ WHERE ARE YOU?!” Another yelled, ceasing both yours and Terry’s movements completely , and instead invoked laughter amongst the two of you as he helped you climb off of him and shuffle to the door to collect your late night little ice cream bandit and morning hallway screamer.

#tal #terry richmond #Terry Richmond imagine #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre

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ingeniousmindoftune · 16 days ago

Text

The Live-In Assistant

Note: I decided I wanted to test this book out here and see how well it does before I transfer it to wattpad.

Pairing(s): Aaron Pierre x Black!oC!

Summary: Some jobs come with perks. Others come with secrets. When stunning, sharp-tongued Nazariah Knox lands the coveted role of live-in assistant to power couple Cambria Vaughn, a legendary fashion designer, and her retired NFL husband Corbin Vaughn, she thinks she’s finally scored the stability—and luxury—she’s always wanted. Living in their sleek Atlanta penthouse, surrounded by opulence, influence, and designer everything, Nazariah is determined to stay in her lane and play her part. But desire doesn’t play by the rules. Between late-night fittings with Cambria that blur the line between sensuality and seduction, and chance encounters with Corbin that feel too electric to ignore, Nazariah finds herself dangerously caught in the gravitational pull of two very different forces. What starts as subtle glances and shared secrets soon becomes tangled sheets and stolen moments that none of them can explain—or resist. As passion erupts in ways no one expected, old wounds resurface, loyalty is tested, and trust becomes a luxury no one can afford. In a world where everything looks perfect on the outside, someone is hiding the cracks…and someone is going to break. Because in this twisted triangle of lust, love, and lies, some boundaries were made to be crossed?

Teyana Taylor as Cambria

Kayla Nicole as Nazariah

Aaron Pierre as Corbin

PROLOGUE.

The silk sheets were cool against Nazariah's bare skin, a sharp contrast to the heat of Corbin's hands tracing the curve of her spine. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, Atlanta pulsed in gold and violet light, the city unaware of the storm building in the penthouse above it.

"You're sure about this?" he whispered, voice thick with want, his breath skating down her neck.

Nazariah arched into him, her fingers tangled in his locs. "I stopped being sure the second your wife slid that diamond keycard across the marble counter and told me to 'make myself at home.'"

Their lips collided like magnets snapping together—hungry, reckless, wrong in all the ways that felt right. The months of tension, late-night glances, brushed fingertips when Cambria wasn't looking—it had all led to this.

Nazariah moaned softly as Corbin pulled her beneath him, his body heavy and warm, the air charged with lust and danger. He kissed her like a man unraveling—slow at first, savoring every forbidden inch—then deeper, faster, as if trying to erase guilt with every thrust of his tongue.

She knew this wasn't love.

This was escape.

This was power.

This was a lie dressed in pleasure.

And then—

the door creaked open.

"Nazariah?" Cambria's voice cut through the moment like a blade. "Corbin?"

Nazariah froze beneath him, heart plummeting into her stomach.

Cambria stood at the threshold, her red silk robe billowing around her ankles like smoke, fury etched across her high-cheekboned face. Her mascara smudged just enough to hint she hadn't been asleep—but crying. Or plotting.

"You BITCH."

She moved fast—faster than Nazariah expected. A blur of manicured claws and heartbreak.

Nazariah scrambled off the bed, tangled in sheets and panic, but Cambria lunged. A slap echoed through the room, followed by the shriek of a toppled lamp.

Nazariah shoved her back. "I didn't ask for this, Cambria—"

Cambria tackled her at the side of the bed. A vase shattered. Elbows collided. Corbin shouted—but it was too late.

Nazariah's heel slipped on the sleek hardwood. She twisted, lost balance—

and her temple slammed into the sharp edge of the nightstand.

Black.

Silence.

Then only the sound of shallow breathing, the crackle of spilled glass beneath bare feet...

and Cambria's whispered gasp:

"What did I just do?"

#black writer #black fanfiction #black writers #imagines #black reader #ingeniousmindoftune #blackwomen #fanfic writers #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre #aaron pierre smut #aaron pierre x black!oc

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fckwritersblock · 2 months ago

Text

Ready or Not - Part 1

Terry Richmond x Black Reader

Word count: 1.7k+

(Unedited.)

Masterlist

There was little activity in the small town sheriff station. No reports had come thru or really been active. Your heart continued to raced, as you watched him through the glass window .

He had found you. Of course he had. You weren’t sure if he’d actually been looking or if it was by chance, thanks to Mike, his cousin and your reluctant ally. Shit, you didn’t even know Mike was in town when you first arrived. Apparently you’d been kidding yourself if you thought he’d keep his mouth shut when it came to you and your whereabouts. You should’ve known the moment you spotted Mike at the grocery store and he greater you with a smile full of a teeth and a “Hey, cuz!ñ it was only a matter of time before Terry knew exactly where you were.

Taking another job in law enforcement because you missed it was proving to be more and more of a mistake.

The bell above the door jingled softly as you ceased all movement, your pen hovering mid-air above the paperwork. It was a slow afternoon, and usually on days like this you’d welcome any distraction. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight that stood before you.

Terry Richmond.

He looked just as you remembered—Terry stood there, his tall frame and rugged demeanor unmistakable, dressed in a simple heather gray t-shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders. His low cut cesar and fresh line framed a face that was both familiar and foreign. A small but confident smile that had once made your heart flutter. You hadn’t seen him in years, not since everything fell apart.

Your eyes locked for a brief moment, and the air around the two of you felt charged, as if the years apart had never existed. You swallowed hard, trying to mask the rush of emotions that threatened to spill over.

“What are you doing here?” You managed to stammer, you voice barely above a whisper. It felt surreal to see him here, of all places—at your job, in a world where we had both moved on, or on you had tried to move on it.

Man you were going to kick Mike’s ass for this. He knew Terry didn’t play about you, same as you, regardless of your relationship status. But one thing was for sure: Terry was extremely good at his job. A former mercenary, he had a way of tracking down people, often leaving them with no room to escape. It’s why you moved around so much. You knew he’d find you if he wanted to. You knew he had been looking. You wanted to face Terry on your terms but it looked like fate had other plans.

Today was no different than any other day when it came to the way Terry Richmond operated. One thing was certain; he wouldn’t be leaving town until he got the information and results he wanted. The two of you didn’t exchange many words at the police station but you knew. He was there for Mike who had gone and got himself into some trouble. You had no idea to what extent until you did a bit a digging after eavesdropping. You must’ve been off during his initial arrest and transfer. Terry left on not so great terms with the sheriff and two of the deputies and you knew he this wasn’t over. Not but a long shot. By the quick glance in your direction before his departure you also knew it was only a matter of time before he showed up at your door. That thought alone sent shivers down your spine.

You bit your nails anxiously. The memories flooded back, sharp and vivid, as you recalled the moment you first spotted him at the station.

You glanced at the door, your heart pounding as you heard a soft tap at your front door. What followed was a sequence of taps and scrapes as if a key were being dragged across the door. You smiled a little immediately recognizing the Morse code and shook your head.

With a sigh, you removed the chain and deadbolt from the door, opening it slowly.

There stood Terry Richmond in all his glory standing up straight in all his glory.

“Peaches,” he nodded, drawling out the nickname he had given you years ago.

“Took longer than I expected.” You voiced.

“Aw baby you were waiting on me?” He gave you a cheekily grin to which you rolled you eye and unlocked the screen door, pushing it open a bit as an invitation inside before turning and heading toward the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You offered, minding the manners your mama taught you.

“Naw P, I’m good.” He declined.

You shrugged as you walked to the other side of the island and grabbed your coffee mug. It may have me 9 something at night but you needed to do something with your hands to keep them from shaking and giving away how nervous you were. You intended to keep your distance between the two of you, knowing if he got the chance to actually put his hands on you, you’d be lost.

There was a comfortable silence between you, one that came with a familiarity that you knew if you sat in too long a particular kind of tension would build and good god you did not want to fall into the trap that the light skin demon in front of you knew how to easily lure you into based on years of practice.

“So, are you gonna say something or keep staring at me?” you challenged, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“You look good. Let me stare a little longer,” he replied, his voice low and teasing, but there was something more in his gaze—something that made your heart flutter against your will.

“Terry,” you said his name with a warning tone, but all he did was smirk, that infuriating, charming smirk that once made your knees weak.

“How long?” You proceeded to ask, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach.

“Three weeks,” he replied, and you glared a bit crossing your arms.

“How?”

“I’ll always find you,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of determination mixed with something else—something deeper.

“So Mike?”

“Yep,” he confirmed, leaning against the table, his body language casual but his eyes intense.

“What’s exactly going on with that anyone?”

He sighed running a hand over his face before explaining everything that had gon on between him and cops earlier. What he had known of the trouble Mike was in and why it was so important to get him out of there asap. When Mike had first told him what he was mixed up in, prior to his arrest that was when he told Terry you had been right there in Shelby Springs.

“Know anything about what’s going down in this crooked ass place?”

“Honestly, no.” You shrugged, leaning forward on the island counter,. “I only started working there three weeks ago. I could tell there was something off around here though. A lot of things people say are strangely cryptic.”

“You don’t care to find out why?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Part of me does, part of me doesn’t. I don’t stay anywhere more than four months, and then I’m gone.”

“Yes, I’m well aware. Every time I think I know where you are, I show up and you’re gone.” His words hung in the air, a reminder of your unfinished business.

You rolled your eyes at his jab, but it stung more than you wanted to admit. “I’ve always been very good at my job, you know that.”

“So you are tired of this cat and mouse thing we got going on. This is your way of telling me you want me to find you?”

“In your dreams. How was I supposed to know Mike would be down here with his bullshit?” You mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “We’re in the middle of nowhere for crying out loud.”

“Yeah, well now those little officers you work with got my money, and that’s a problem for me.” “So you gonna help a brotha out?”

“I don’t even like you.”

“We both know you like me more than you’re willing to admit.”

“Terry,”

Just that quick, the energy in the room was heavy with the weight of memories and unfulfilled desires. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, pulling you in despite your better judgment.

“I’m lying?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes in disbelief. “I can’t believe Mike. Even at a time like this he chooses to meddle and now look.”

Maybe he’s just trying to help,” Terry said, stepping closer, the air thickening with unspoken tension.

“Help? By bringing you back into my life?” you shot back, though part of you was secretly thrilled at the thought.

“You know it’s not that simple,” he said softly, his gaze softening. “I didn’t come here to make things complicated. I came here because it’s bout time we had everything out for real.”

“Why now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I can’t pretend anymore. Not after seeing you again,” he confessed, his intensity washing over you like a tide.

You took a step back, your heart racing. “And what if I’ve moved on?”

“Have you?” he challenged, his eyes searching yours for the truth.

Your heart raced as you looked into his eyes, the familiar spark igniting the air around you. You could almost hear the echo of the past, the passion, the pain, and the love that once bound you together. Your body couldn’t forget his if you wanted it to. He knew the answer. Hell you both knew the answer but you refused to give him the satisfaction of saying it, not after what he did.

“tell me you ain’t missed me…” he has now taken your hand in his and began rubbing his thumb over the of it gently.

“Because I missed you.” His admission surprised you, and you frowned, feeling a mix of anger and longing.

It wasn’t fair for him to say things like that. He missed you now, but when the tables turned and he had the chance to be with you, he disappeared without a word. You had left the organization seven months before he up and took another mission, leaving you feeling abandoned.

You shoved him away, your bottled-up emotions spilling over. “What are you trying to do? Bring up me up let me down again? What is there for me to miss?. The way you ran out on me, the way you pretended you cared, pretended you loved me!”

“Y/n,” he tried, but you shook your head, stepping back and crossing your arms defensively. Walls coming back over the quick progress he’d made in the attempt to chip away at them and bring them down.

“No, Terry. I don’t miss you.”

You could see the hurt flash in his eyes, and you felt a pang of guilt. He deserved more than that, the way the pain of his departure did more than stung to this day. Like it would forever be a fresh wound.

“I think I should go.” his voice heavy with resignation.

“I think you should too,” you agreed.

The two of you walked back to the front door, his visit ending before it could even really start. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, a history that refused to fade. “Terry, when you get down to the courthouse, Ask for Summer,” you added, still offering him a bit of help.

He nodded, but you could tell he wasn’t ready to let this go. “Y/n, can we just… talk? About everything?”

You hesitated, torn between the desire to open up and the fear of getting hurt again. “Maybe one day,” you replied softly, knowing full well that the past was a tangled mess that neither of you could easily unravel.

Closing the door behind him you turned and pressed your back against the door, heading following suit with a light thud.

“Fuck.”

#black writer #terry richmond #black!reader #black female reader #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x black oc #black reader imagine #black reader #black reader masterlist #rebel ridge #rebel ridge fanfiction #aaron pierre x black reader #Arron pierre x reader #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x plus size reader #Terry Richmond x black!reader

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 3 months ago

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Okay so who on here writes for Terry Richmond/Aaron?

That I don’t currently follow?

I feel as if things are dying off in the fandom which sucks but I’m still here! Been here since the BP fandom fizzled! Which sucks because this is a chance to have our own little world 🤦🏿‍♀️

Anyways comment beneath this post and I’m giving consent to tag me in works! I’ll try to be more active for you guys. I’m currently writing and trying to prepare for Sinners.

#aaron pierre x black!oc #terry richmond #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger #michaelbaejordan #kelvin harrison jr.

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artsninspo · 2 months ago

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013 | Richmond Inc.

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

⇚ 012

♠ summary: Lorence and Terrance escape to Brazil for their first couples getaway, where romance, vulnerability, and unspoken truths simmer beneath paradise skies in a chapter rich with intimacy and emotional depth for all the lover girls.

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ word-count: ~3.5K

⌖ - Rio, Brazil

I wake up from sleeping to gentle nudges from Terry. It takes me some time to wake up and realize where I am. I blink once, twice, and stretch against the plush recline of the seat. Terry’s warm hand is resting on my forearm, his thumb lazily tracing the inside of my wrist.

“We’re descending,” he says with patient eyes. He waits a moment before reaching in front of me and pulling up the window cover. Light streams in and I squint before looking down. I see the ocean and rich green landscapes and then I see one of the world's wonders. I find myself smiling at the possibilities - it’s a place I’ve never been.

“Brasil?” I ask and he nods as we continue our descent. “For four days” he adds.

“Just the two of us?” I ask excitedly and he nods. It’s the longest we’ve ever spent together without interruption. “Thank you for making time for us.”

“My pleasure” he responds, pecking my temple. I adjust the seats and in no time I’m being kissed by the sun too. The humid air is a welcome hallmark of a tropical vacation. I’m even more impressed when Terry takes our bags, putting them in the back of a Land Rover Defender with the top off. He gets the door for me and then gets in himself. No drivers - it’s like at home, just us.

Us.

The kind of thought that would’ve terrified me a few weeks ago. Now it’s prospect is one I look forward to. He cuts on the radio and a local station starts playing as the soundtrack to our trip. We pass the infamous beaches and get a good view of the statue of Christ the Redeemer on our way into the mountainous region. The roads require Terry’s full attention so it's my turn to keep a hand on him as he makes his way through the vibrant city and to our destination. He doesn’t speak much, jaw tight as he steers with one hand and rests the other lightly on the gearshift. His silence isn’t distant—but something about it stirs. Like he’s bracing for something. Or avoiding it.

I reach over and slide my fingers onto his thigh. Just enough pressure to say: I'm here. He doesn't flinch. He doesn’t speak but the tension fades and he comes back to the present giving me a caring half smile. We wind through quiet roads until the villa appears—tucked between trees, kissed by wildflowers, while being clean and modern. The perfect mix of our two styles.

“You like it?” he asks as he kills the engine. There's something shy tucked behind his words.

“I love it.” I smile excited to see the rest of it.

“Go on, I’m right behind you with our things” he smiles handing me a key fob. I wonder how and where but I don't ask. I don't want to kill the magic of him always being ready. My smile beams as I admire the eclectic decor style throughout the main living area. It’s where he finds me as he comes in with our bags. I’m so excited I don't even know where to start. I feel like a contestant on one of those reality shows where the cast gets put up in some luxury mansion. I turn the corner and pause when I see a breathtaking view of the ocean.

“No way” I mutter to myself walking out to the balcony. I place my hands down on the glass balcony and look out taking it all in considering how I ended up here. The breeze is just right and I relax into the atmosphere feeling even better when I feel Terrance at my side. I get deja-vu from Monaco - the trip that changed everything and smile as I shade my face from the sun to look up at him.

“You outdid yourself and I haven't even seen the entire villa yet” I tell him. I turn back to the crystal blue infinity pool and the immaculate accommodation that we can call home for the next four days. When I turn back to him he’s distant again.

“Terrance?” I call drawing him from his thoughts.

“Mhm?” he asks at attention, raised brow and ready to listen.

“I know you're strong already and I know you're remarkable in almost everything you do. I know you're successful at business and you're one of one. While it’s icing on the cake and I admire it - this is a friendly reminder that’s not why I'm here. I’m not asking for your secrets Terrance but you don't have to keep your feelings from me. I’m positive I’m gonna love everything you have planned already” I smile and his expression is serious before he swallows and then smiles a little.

“I just realized I hyped this up on the plane… in my mind the Director position was a home run too before the testing made things go left - but I didn't see that coming either. Whenever we make plans things go left.”

“You know what all of those things had in common? You as Mr. Richmond and not Terrance. This is a fresh start, you know me now and I know you just want to see me smile - don’t overthink it. No one has ever put me on a private jet and drove me past a world wonder before. I think you're doing good” I wink affirming him like he affirms me. I run my fingers over his ear and he takes my hand planting a quick kiss on my knuckles.

“You should know I strive for better than good.” he says playfully.

“Awesome, fantastic, mind blowing” I list and this time his smile is genuine. I smile when I see pink accents in the outdoor space. We walk back where a bucket of champagne is waiting in ice and he pops it open pouring each of us a glass. “I love it Terry, it’s perfect” I tell him and he smiles. “Cheers to us” I lift my glass and his eyes light.

“Cheers to us” he repeats, maintaining eye contact before taking a sip. His kiss takes me by surprise but there’s nerves mixed into the passion. His indelible confidence is shaken but I know he hasn’t done anything to merit whatever is plaguing him.

“What are you scared of?” I ask, wanting to put his mind at ease.

“Losing you” he says without hesitation.

“I don't have any plans of leaving” I tell him.

The way he looks at me tells me there’s more to it. I didn't let myself care about anyone for a long time. His words on the plane come back to me, as does a vision of Monaco when he rushed into action risking it all to protect me. I know he’s going to spiral because I’ve been here before. When the past is so heavy it cages you away from being able to experience the present.

“What do you have planned? I'll go get ready and give you some time” I smile.

“We’re gonna get a bite to eat, we need to leave in an hour and a half” he says seemingly relieved by the prospect of distance.

“I’m going to see what kind of scandalous fits Cassandra’s packed for me” I smile and he does the same.

“Call me if you need help with anything” he says and I nod letting go of his hand to head into the house. I open the suitcases and find a collection of dresses. Cassandra did well to mix in a good amount of my style with hers. But in the end I pick a dress that accentuates all of my best features and is sexier than something I'd typically pick on my own. I find accessories that are more expensive than anything i’d typically buy and enjoy full treatment of styling service.

Thanks for packing for me so thoroughly. - Lorence

Shocked my brother is letting you breathe long enough to send a text through. No problem - please say yes to be his girlfriend when he asks! - Cassandra

Her response makes me smile and I hope Terry isn’t worried about me saying no to him. Taking a deep breath, I decide not to pry with cassandra and send her a simple response back.

I plan to. Call you later - Lorence

Have fun - Cassandra

I finish getting ready and take the dress down from its hanger. When he returns, he knocks once, then opens the door holding a bouquet of birds of paradise —loud, strange, beautiful.

“They reminded me of you,” he says, almost awkwardly. “Bold, but… soft.”

I smile, caught off guard. “How are you making all these things happen? They’re gorgeous” I smile admiring the bouquet in my robe. I find him looking around and cringe. It looks like a Zara store during a sale in this room - chaos and clothes everywhere.

“Sorry” I say but he smiles.

“We can sleep in another room, do you need more time?” he asks and I notice he’s already dressed and looking delectable in linen pants and a polo with his chain.

“No, you look really good in color Terry” I smile.

“Thanks Lorence” He says with hesitance at my name again like he wanted to say something else.

“Can you help me tie my dress up?” I ask. He nods and I stand removing the robe and getting into the dress with a strappy open back.

He steps in further. “Turn around.”

I do. Slowly. He unties the delicate straps at the back of my dress, fingers grazing the bare line of my spine as he reties them with reverence. I catch my breath.

“You always do that,” I say.

“What?”

“Touch me like I might disappear.”

His hands pause. Then he ties the final knot and murmurs, “That’s because I’ve never wanted anything this much.”

When I face him again, he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the inside of my wrist—right where he was tracing earlier.

“Ready?” he asks, voice suddenly husky and I know we’re in dangerous territory.

“Are we walking a lot? Cause I want to look sexy in heels” I ask trying to get us out of this bedroom.

“You don't need heels to look sexy” he says looking at me like I’m a full course meal and he’s starved.

“Terry….”

“Bring both” he responds and I bring the flat sandals. Our chemistry is back and I’m relieved I made the right call giving him some space. He picks me up, surprising me and sits me on the kitchen island. He takes the heels from me putting them on so I feel my best. It has to be some kind of foreplay the way he looks at me while actioning my request. Even more when he carries me to the truck bridal style. Once I’m seated I can't help but pull him in by the collar and kiss him. He goes back into the house and then comes back in the car setting our destination and driving off. Driving down from the mountains into the bustling city area feels like a dream. The people and culture are vibrant. I'm in the perfect place.

The restaurant he’s chosen has all my favorite things; excellent food, live music and entertainment in the form of costumed dancers. It’s tucked on a lively side street, a hidden gem only someone who’s done their research—or speaks perfect Portuguese—could find. Warm string lights hang overhead, casting a golden hue over the open-air patio where a live band plays soft samba in the corner. Our table is near the railing, offering a view of the ocean in the distance, just beyond the bustling streets and dancing silhouettes.

The waiter greets us warmly in Portuguese, and Terry responds with such fluency that I have to blink twice. He gives a small smile, then translates effortlessly for me—letting me pick what I want before he places the order with a kind of ease that makes my stomach flutter. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more seen… or more unknown. Because for all the ways he knows me, there are so many things I still don’t know about him.

“I had no idea you spoke Portuguese,” I say after the waiter leaves.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he says with a soft smile. “But I’m hoping to change that.”

Just as I’m about to ask what he means, an older couple at the next table leans toward us. The woman, radiant with silver-streaked curls and a teal dress, smiles at me like I’m her favorite niece.

“You two make such a beautiful couple,” she says, her accent thick but warm.

I glance at Terry, unsure what to say.

“Thank you,” I say, choosing to play along. “It takes one to know one.”

Her husband, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and the easy confidence of someone who’s loved the same woman for decades, tilts his head curiously.

“So, tell us—was it love at first sight, or one of those slow burn, years-in-the-making stories?”

Before I can say a word, Terry responds.

“Love at first sight,” he says, his voice calm. Certain. “I saw her and… it was instant.”

My heart stutters.

The woman gasps sweetly, covering her heart. “You can tell—he looks at you like he’s been waiting his whole life.”

The couple offers us a toast, and then graciously retreats back to their meal, giving us privacy again.

But the space between us has shifted. I glance down at my wine glass, unsure how to feel. It didn’t sound like a lie—but how could it be true? We’ve definitely been a slow burn. Maybe attraction at first sight but love?”

We finish our meal, the conversation light but laced with tension neither of us wants to touch yet. When the music changes, Terry offers his hand and pulls me into a dance, slow and swaying, and there's a lightness to him I haven't seen before. I don’t know this version of him, the one that smiles freely and asks me to dance spontaneously. The intimacy isn’t in the closeness of our bodies, but in the quiet pull of curiosity behind my eyes. His actions speak volumes and I can see he’s trying to let me into parts of him he might not have seen in a long time.

Later that night, we walk the beach. The sun is long gone but the stars are out in full. I carry my sandals in one hand and let my toes sink into the sand, the waves brushing close to the shore. Terry walks beside me, quiet again in thoughtful silence.

“That didn’t feel like a lie,” I say finally, softly, watching the water. “Back at the restaurant. Was it really love at first sight?”

He stops walking, just for a moment. When I glance at him, I see the conflict in his expression. Not hesitation—just the weight of something old finally being set down.

“I’ve never told you the full extent of our first meeting,” he says, his voice low. “And I’ve been waiting for the right moment.” We pause near a cluster of rocks where the waves curl into tidepools. He looks out toward the horizon before turning back to me.

“Remember I told you my Mom used to collect art?” he begins. “Exclusively black art from local painters, small galleries. I hated it, most of them weren't very good. I parrotted my father saying it was a waste of money. But one day… she brought home this painting. It was the first one that made an impression. The woman on the canvas was gorgeous and I couldn't stop staring. It was perfectly lifelike. Mom was always going on about art that made you feel and there it was. The first one I loved. My mom hung it in her office and I spent too much time looking at it. The painting shares an almost uncanny resemblance to you.”

I study him carefully, heart thudding.

“I didn’t know why it hit me so hard, but I couldn’t stop looking at it. I was maybe eight or nine. And after my mom died, it was one of the things I kept out of storage. It stayed with me. Even when we were moving around for my dads work. I thought Cassandra had meddled and found a look alike because when her mother or my dad asked why I wasn’t settling down I'd tell them because I haven't met the girl in the painting yet. It was a throw away line, at least I thought it was until you walked in and I was too overwhelmed with my past or my feelings to stomach what was happening and treat you properly.”

My breath catches in my chest.

“You’re saying…?”

“When I saw you that first time, Lorence,” he says, finally looking at me, “I swear to you—I felt the same way I did when I saw that painting under all the fear and confusion. Like I already knew you. Like I’d been waiting for you, even if I didn’t know it.”

Silence stretches between us, filled only by the waves and the distant hum of the city behind us. He’s not a liar or the kind of man that believed in woo woo stuff. But the tension was striking and he was drilling me like he didn't think I was real or a real agent. Cassandra had said I was his type so many times. I know it’s the truth but it’s a lot to stomach.

“Just like me?” I ask and he nods.

“I wish I could see it” I mutter and I smile.

“When I enlisted I donated my mothers art to a gallery here. Rio was my mother’s favourite city. Nothings been right since I let go of her collection. We can go see the painting tomorrow if you want. I have the code to the gallery and told the owner I’d be stopping by” he says.

And just like that, the last of the distance falls away. The part of me that runs from intimate permanence wants to run away, then the other side of me wants to lean in hopefully. Like the cosmos conspiring to put Terry in my life is confirmation that it’s real - I can let my guard down completely and dream of forever.

“I shouldn’t have said anything, Cassandra warned me I’d creep you out” he says reading me wrong. I grab his hand, needing him to stay more than ever. I can't speak as emotion swells and I fight tears at the prospect of being with him so long before ever meeting him.

I take his hand. “You brought me here to see it.”

He nods. “I thought maybe if you saw it too… you’d understand why I’m the way I am about you. I mean the painting could’ve happened and then you could’ve been someone I couldn't stand but instead you’re you.”

“And me grating your nerves didn’t make you sway?” I ask.

“I can't stay upset or away from you no matter how I try,” He says.

“Can I see the photo now?” I ask and he takes out his phone going into a hidden album full of photos of a gorgeous woman that’s no doubt his mother. He scrolls and scrolls and scrolls before stopping at a photo with her and a painting that looks exactly like me. Drifting from my own familiar eyes I look to Terry’s mother’s - she feels equally as familiar.

“Your mother is gorgeous” I tell him and he smiles.

“She thought the same of you” he says and I find myself smiling at the photograph.

“Love at first sight huh?” I tease.

“Definitely” he affirms saying ‘I love you’ without saying it again. There's so much to say but it’s my turn to process in silence as we drive back to the villa. Terry and I are too raw for words and the last thing I want to do is reject the man that ran into gunfire to save me. His actions make more sense, his poise and his confidence in us. The way he looks at me. How my mom was able to see it and so was the couple at dinner today. I haven't fully processed or made sense of it, yet. I have three years worth of information and interactions to evaluate but the way he treats me can’t be denied. Even when I was running from his temper he was always gentler with me, always more moderate until our clash in Switzerland really and ever since he’s been … everything. With the way he makes me feel and has stopped me from running there definitely is some higher power at play.

authors note: So now you know the full background of why Lorence means so much to Terry, why he always wanted to be near her and could hardly self regulate. The man was going crazy trying to make sense of the impossible. Sound off in the comments about your thoughts - now you know why i've been writing them as 'perfect' for each other. There's one more thing that they share in common. I wonder if any of you can guess it. Anywho, thanks for reading. Don't forget to reblog, comment, tag and like.

click here to ✮ join taglist ✮ and be notified when new updates drop.

TAGS:

#terry richmond fic #terry richmond smut #terry richmond #terry richmond imagine #rebel ridge fanfiction #rebel ridge #aaron pierre imagine #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron fics #aaronpierre

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blazinbeautywrites · 4 months ago

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Behind the Scenes

Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.

None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me unless stated otherwise. Full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.

A/N: Whew I'm a lil rusty and this is my first time writing for Aaron so please bare with me.

Summary: Aaron has fallen for his co-star and has a feeling she wants him to. A night out with his favorite girl reveals just how much tension has been built up between them.

Length: 2,498 words

Genre: Fluff (kinda), smut

Aaron was irritated. His car was late, a bird shit on him, and to top it all off, he had to drop out of a role he really wanted due to a scheduling conflict. But all these little inconveniences dissipated once he heard her laughter. Kiki Davis. His beautiful and talented co-star whom he had a little crush on. When they first met she was so warm and welcoming and he immediately felt comfortable in her presence. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her energy was quite the contrast to the dark, gory horror film they were starring in together. He began making his way to hair and makeup when he heard her sweet voice.

“Okay I see you buff daddy all big and shit in ya lil suit.” Kiki said, smiling big trying to hold back her laughter.

“Girl you play too much but you look good your damn self, spin around for me real quick.” Aaron said, staring down at her shorter frame. Kiki raised her eyebrow at his boldness. Usually he would give her a cute laugh and blush a bit but she enjoyed this more confident version of him. Doing as he asked, she began spinning, showing off her beautiful figure in her cute little dress. He couldn't help staring at her ass and the way it sat up so nice. All he wanted to do was lift her dress up and spank her. Kiki noticed the way he was looking at her and gave him a wide smile. She moved closer to him and as she felt her nipples slightly graze his chest she scaled her eyes from his wide chest, neck, lips, and finally his beautiful eyes.

“You know, if you wanted to see my ass, all you had to do was ask.” And with a wink and a smile she was gone, whisked back to hair and makeup. Aaron was stuck. His own assistant ushered him to his waiting room. He had no idea how the hell he was going to make it through this press junket.

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

“It was the craziest thing I'd ever seen. The way they just kept slipping and sliding, it was never ending.” Kiki laughed as she recounted watching the stunt people coordinate a chase scene on set while having to run on a bloody floor. Aaron was so enamored with her he completely missed the interviewer asking him the same question.

“Aaron? You okay my man?” The interviewer laughed, causing the audience to giggle.

“Yeah, you okay Aaron?” Kiki teased. Aaron had to recover fast so he said the first thing that came to mind.

“Ummmm, I actually loved Kiki's fight scene. I feel like she gave it her all and it was nice watching how she mixed her karate and boxing training. It was really cool to watch her in her element.” Aaron said as he looked at Kiki and smiled. Kiki winked at him and that sent a shiver down his back.

“Of course you'd pick one of my scenes as your favorite. I expect nothing less from the man who's madly in love with me.” Kiki joked. The whole audience “ooooohed” and laughed at that. Aaron looked Kiki dead in the eyes, not backing down.

“And so what if I am? What then?” Aaron challenged. Kiki's smile dropped, expecting him to go shy or laugh off her flirting like he always does. She was not prepared for him to flirt back. Oh the stakes have definitely been raised.

“Oh Aaron. Trust me baby, you don’t want this smoke.” Kiki said. Aaron still wasn’t backing down.

“Kiki, Kiki, Kiki………..I want all the smoke.” He replied. The audience erupted in chaos after he said that. Aaron and Kiki stared each other down with a pure, intense lust.

“Is it me or is it getting hot in here?” The interviewer asks, earning some laughs from the audience. The interview continues with a little more light flirting and more on set anecdotes from Aaron and Kiki. Once the interview was done, their assistants came to bring them backstage. Before Kiki can enter her dressing room, she turns to Aaron, stopping him in his tracks.

“Sooooo some of us are going to the Moonlight Lounge. You wanna come?” Kiki asks.

“I’d love to. I have to stop home first but I’ll meet you all there.” Aaron said. Kiki watched him walk away and she knew she was in trouble. She also knew that she would definitely have a piece or at least a taste of that fine ass man, tonight.

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

The Moonlight Lounge 9:02 pm

Some of the cast and crew were already a bit tipsy by the time Aaron arrived. He was amused seeing them all let their guard down. He saw Kiki and their other costar, Vanessa Leon, sitting by themselves talking and laughing. Vanessa saw Aaron before Kiki did and smirked whole making eye contact with him.

“And looked what the cat dragged in. Hey handsome.” Vanessa flirted, making Aaron smile.

“Hey V, see you've had a few drinks already.” Aaron chuckled.

“Boy I've only had like 3 of these weak ass cocktails.” Vanessa said. Judging by her hiccups, he could tell that they were getting to her. After damn near falling over she excused herself to the restroom.

Aaron took a look at Kiki and almost lost his cool when they made eye contact. He appreciated the way her dress accentuated her curves and breasts. He could just imagine sucking on them while she rode him.

“There you go staring off into space again. What's on your mind, pretty eyes?” Kiki asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how much I enjoyed working with you this past summer.” Aaron spoke. Kiki’s eyebrow rose and she gave him a wide smile.

"Awww I really enjoyed working with you too. You wanna get out of here? I’m kind of over this and I’m ready to take this dress off.” Kiki said. Aaron gave her a devilish smile and helped her to her feet. Just as they were about to walk out of the door, they saw Vanessa coming from the bathroom.

“Leaving so soon yall?” She asked.

“Yeah and maybe you should be heading out soon too V?” Kiki said.

“Oh girl I already called my man to come take my ass home. I don’t know why I thought I could hang. I am not in my 20s anymore. But yall get home safe.” Vanessa replied.

After saying their goodbyes, Aaron led Kiki to his car. He opened his passenger door and helped her secure her seatbelt before getting in himself. He let her put her address in his navigation system and they headed to her house. After a 20 minute drive filled with sexual tension and light conversation, they’d arrived at her beautiful, secluded Los Angeles home. Aaron parked and quickly got out to open her car door. Kiki thanked him and began walking towards her gate, punching in the code. After opening her front door, Kiki let out a sigh of relief and took off her heels. Aaron followed suit, taking off his own shoes. He watched as she sashayed to her kitchen to grab them something to drink. He was so entranced by her ass that he didn’t hear her ask what he wanted to drink.

“Aaron?” Kiki called out confused. He snapped out of it at the sound of her voice and made his way into the kitchen. He looked in her fridge and saw she had a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. He grabbed it and let her direct him to her glass cabinet and he poured them each a glass. They stood in a comfortable silence and just stared each other down. Kiki had some wild ass thoughts floating in her head that made her giggle. She took a sip and relished in the sweet taste of the cool wine. Aaron raised a brown, intrigued by her little outburst. He moved closer to her, stopping just short of her smaller stature.

“And what’s so funny Ms. Davis? He teased. He invaded her personal space, once again admiring her dress and how it clung to her gorgeous figure. He moved a piece of her hair out of her face with his finger then slowly trailed his finger down her arm.

Kiki was stuck. All she could do was stare at him wordlessly. She got lost in his eyes and before she realized what she was doing, she’d kissed him. She pulled back quickly, embarrassed she’d let herself lose control like that.

“Shit I’m so sor-.” She couldn’t even finish her sentence as Aaron pulled her against him and kissed her back. Kiki gasped out of shock and Aaron used that opportunity to introduce his tongue to hers. Kiki was tonguing him down and he loved how sloppy it was. He tested the waters and slid his hand down to her ass, giving it a light squeeze. Kiki moaned into the kiss, spurring him on. He now had both hands on her ass and was rubbing and squeezing her to his heart's content.

“See this ass right here....it's gon get you in trouble.” Aaron spoke against her lips. Without warning he slapped both of her cheeks so hard, she just knew that he’d leave marks.

“Hmmm do it again.” Kiki purred. Aaron was happy to oblige. He gave her what she wanted and Kiki almost collapsed into his arms. She was in a state of euphoria. Aaron realized he’d accidentally unveiled one of her kinks. He would definitely be using it to his advantage. “So you like to be spanked? Hmmmm.” Aaron playfully taunted. He was in heaven. He’d finally got to see what Ms. Kiki Davis was about and he was more than ready to show her what the fuck he was about. He picked her up and sat her on her kitchen island, careful not to knock over their forgotten glasses of wine. Kiki’s was burning up on the inside. This man had her feral as hell and she couldn’t wait to rip his clothes off. Aaron was just as needy and wasted no time in pulling down the front of her dress.

“Mmmm, imma enjoy these.” He said as he latched onto her left nipple. He played with her right as he flicked his tongue against her warm flesh. Her moans were music to his ears and he loved knowing it was him that had her feeling this way.

“Yeessssss fuck babyyyyyy.” Kiki moaned. She’d never had an orgasm from nipple stimulation but there’s a first time for everything. Aaron switched sides and gave her right nipple the same treatment as the left. Once he’d had his feel, he pulled back and gave her a once over.

“You really are fucking beautiful. I’m glad I finally got you alone.” He said as he dragged his hands down to her ankles and brought them up onto the counter. He held one leg in his hand and admired her pretty lavender painted toes. She felt like he was staring into her soul as he picked up her foot and planted soft kisses on her ankle. Without warning, Kiki felt a warm, wet sensation and watch as Aaron’s tongue swirled around her big toe. He moaned and she almost came right then and there. She was enjoying the feeling of his mouth on her so much that she hadn’t noticed that he’d raised her dress up a bit and was slipping his pointer finger in her underwear.

“Oh my fucking god.” Kiki whined as Aaron’s finger circled her clit. His movements were slow and calculated as he continued to suck on her toe. The dueling sensations had Kiki feeling like she was floating on a cloud. He added his middle finger to the mix and she began grinding up against him.

“Fuck you’re so damn wet. I can hear that pussy talking to me. I bet she tastes even better than she feels.” He praised. He pulled his fingers from her underwear and put them in his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored her taste. He dipped his fingers into her entrance and collected some of her juices. He brought his fingers to her mouth and watched as she licked her own essence from her fingers. He kissed her once more and as they kissed, Kiki could taste herself on his tongue. Aaron took his spit and cum covered fingers and circled them around her nippled. He sucked her nipple back into his mouth and cleaned up his mess. He gently nudged her backwards so she could lay down on the counter. She spread her legs and felt a cool breeze on her soaked underwear. Aaron effortlessly lifted her up and slid off her underwear. He wasted no time diving into her pussy. He licked a long stripe up her center and began eating her out like a starved neanderthal.

Kiki grabbed his head and grinded against his lips, chasing her orgasm. He was breaking her down in the best way and she couldn’t get enough.

“Right there right there right there-OH FUUUUCK.” Kiki screamed. Aaron moved back and watched as she squirted. He leaned down and caught some of her juices, drinking from her as if she was his personal water fountain. He watched as she made a mess all over her kitchen, smiling smugly at his handiwork. He rubbed her thighs, helping her come down from her high. Kiki was shook. That was one of her most powerful orgasms ever and it was all because of her fine ass co-star.

“You good Ms. Davis?” Aaron asked her, still smiling at her.

“Nigga wipe that smug ass smile off you face and help me down.” Kiki said, amused that he was so impressed with himself. After being placed on the floor, she walked to her hall closet, grabbing a big towel to clean up her mess off of her island. She knew she’d have to deep clean but tonight was not the night for that. While she cleaned up the floor, Aaron grabbed her from behind, and held her against his body.

“You know I’m not done with you right?” He whispered into her ear. She smiled and turned around in his arms. She gave him a quick kiss then pulled him towards her living room.

“Oh I know. Now go sit down so I can eat that dick up.” Kiki commanded. Aaron obeyed her and sat down on her sofa and watched as she crawled to him, stopping just short of his legs. He could just tell that she’d devour him and he was prepared to go all night with her.

He finally got his leading lady.

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre imagines #bre writes

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spookysanta · 23 days ago

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i have an idea to create a series of drabbles based on tweets... like the interpretation of something like these.

it'd be for all the muses, not just michael or aaron. but i'm curious about how y'all would feel about it...

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baewritez · 10 months ago

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Hello.

Before anything I am a BLACK women. Now that is clear let set some healthy boundaries.

No bullying of any kind will be allowed.

No racist comments or racial slurs.

Please be patient with me updating any bodies of work. ( I am only human and a college student.)

Yes request are open however DO NOT SPAM my dm box.

Be respectful of my writing choices.

Not following this will result in automatic blocking. Now that is clear I would like to introduce myself. Hello , my name is Bae. I am 24 years old , I hail from sunny Miami ,Florida , and I am a Leo and Cancer clasp. I write black women romance and adult fanfiction with a focus on plus size and curvy women. The request box is open and i will be updating and posting new work every Wednesday. Love you all and welcome to Baewritez.

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that-one-anxious-mango · 23 days ago

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the neighborhood uncle. (1)

summary: after almost a year and some change of being the neighborhood children's nominated uncle, terry believes that it is high time to give the children an aunt.

pairing: terry richmond x dallas dubois (oc!)

content: fluff, allusions to nsfw acts, language, cuteness, slight angst if you squint, allusions to childhood trauma, mentions of death and mortuary practices.

note: this takes place in the 4evermore universe and the pair have been together officially almost two years during the events of this imagine.

a/n: evening! I hope everyone is fairing well during these...interesting times. I wrote this imagine the other day in almost one sitting after being inspired by a Instagram reel I seen yesterday morning. so please enjoy.

though I did edit this today, four hours post op from wisdom teeth removal surgery, so if there are grammatical errors…my bad. 😬

p.s: please feel free to comment, like, reblog, or send a letter with any rambles, questions, and more. I low-key need entertainment for the next few days in this bed y’all. 🥹

taglist: @zillasvilla , @slowly-blue-coffee, @kumkaniudaku , @lovedlover , @wonderlustwrites , @theogbadbitch , @enticingmelanin

For as sturdy and stoic as most onlookers took Terry Richmond to be due to the constant resting neutrality to his face, hardened physique by way of years training in the physical disciplines of the martial arts and US Marine corp, his somewhat reserved speech, and that overall demeanor that screamed 'I'm not for the fuck shit'.

There was always one group of beings who still have never deterred from dwelling in his presence. Those beings are children.

For whatever reason ever since his adolescence, young children had always had an unexplainable draw to Terry. And maybe it had been the eldest sibling energy he exuded or how somewhat mature he’d seemed from an early time in his life due to unfortunate traumas occurring before he was old enough to properly process them, leaving him no choice but to both accelerate parts of his growth and unknowingly stunt some of it as well. At points robbing himself of parts of his childhood. Blind.

But it was also part of the reason why it was so easy for him to attain his high school community service hours through tutoring younger students in math and science based subjects, and also why he had the prowess to continually lead himself and his underclassmen teammates to numerous victories on the court.

It was just unexplainably easy for him to get along with these beings. And why wouldn't it be. Children were honest, humorous, and most of all pure within intentions. All things Terry found himself striving to constantly be everyday.

And while children seemed to adore Terry to moon and beyond the stars, as quiet as it was kept, he too secretly adored them back. Never minding the company of a young soul to be a companion to his elder one.

Something that proved to still ring true on a random cool Sunday afternoon almost two years ago, as he was kneeled on the ground tending to the still growing patch of ivory begonias in the front yard of his new inherited home.

He'd been outside for quite some time working at pulling the aggravating weeds and sneaking dandelions away from his uncle's legacy when he felt the presence appear behind him.

Face already preparing to fix with a scowl at who could be interrupting this sacred time, he found his features immediately softening at the sight of the little tawny girl in front of him with her lavender glasses and barrette sealed pigtails hanging past her ear, perched on her little purple bike as she stared at him in curiosity.

He'd recognized her as Laila, the daughter of his down the way neighbor Deja McAdams, a widowed single mother and Liberian for one of the local middle schools. She’d also been classmates with Dallas in high school.

" Well hello there. " He offered a somber smile, taking a moment to reach over and wipe his hands of the dirt on them.

" Hi." She chirped.

Looking around at the slightly sparse sidewalks, he attempted to locate a sign of her mother or one of her elder brothers he could recall seeing a few times before turning back to her, " Say young lady. Where are your people? It's not good to be wandering around by yourself. Not safe."

" I wasn't by myself." She replied, pointing further down the street, " I was riding bikes with my brothers. But they left me cause' I couldn't keep up on a count I can't use my pedals."

Frowning and taking another look at the bike, he asked, " Why aren't you using your pedals? You know how to ride it, right?”

The young girl nodded before explaining, " Yes. Pedals don't work."

" I see." Terry hummed, slowly standing up to his full height and almost laughing when seen the expression of wonder appear on her little face, " You mind if I take a look at it?”

This earned him another nod as she carefully allowed him to turn the bike over and inspect it until he found the problem of her cracked bottom bracket as the culprit.

With a purposely dramatic deep sigh as he stood up, he watched the anticipation rise on her face, " Well?”

" Well. I think I might be able to fix this for you." He started, already piecing together what tools he needed grab from his kit for the job, " But only on two conditions."

" What? " She scrunched up, ready to hear his price.

" One, if I fix this you have to promise me that you won't be wandering alone again without your brothers or mama watching you, alright? If they leave you again, go home and tell your mama." He instructed and watched her nod.

" And two, you have to promise me that the next time you stop here for a visit, you won't ride your bike on Mr. Terry's freshly cut grass, okay." He motioned to the small tire marks that had begun to form on the ground.

" Oh! " She offered a sheepish smile, " Sorry!"

" Hey. That's alright. No big deal...this time." He playfully raised an eyebrow ensuing small giggles from his little hopeful dealmaker, " But does that mean we have a deal?"

"Mmmm..." The first grader paused to mimic a moment of thought like she'd seen in the movies she watched, before sticking out her hand, " Deal."

" Okay." He laughed, making sure to gently shake hers back, " Got our selves a deal then. Now show me where your mama is so I can explain to her what I'm about to do to your bike." He instructed, picking up the bike and following a chattering Laila all the way to her home.

From there visits from young Laila became frequent, whether to inquire about Mr. Terry fixing and upgrading something on her bike, using him as a willing audience for all of her pageant practice while he diligently carried on his yardwork, and eventually to sometimes say hello to the pretty funeral lady that sat with him somedays on his porch and offered sweet snacks.

It wasn't long before the other neighborhood children would hear from the jabbering princess all about Laila’s newly minted Uncle Terry, the Mr. Incredible like man who supplied big boy strength, laughter, and occasional baked goods he sourced from Dallas.

Soon they all found themselves gravitating to the house with the pretty white flowers by its mailbox. With Terry welcoming each and every one just the same until it fully evolved into Terry stepping into his role as everybody’s neighborhood uncle for the last year and some change.

To which he accepted, providing as much love, tender, discipline, and guidance as he could possibly give them.

And just like that Terry found his porch quickly becoming a safe space for any and every child who stepped foot into the space that Terry had once worked tirelessly to restore alongside some of his colleagues when he decided to move in and refurbish the home his uncle had left him.

And whether haircuts were being given to a little head sitting on the stoop in the evening, helping with homework after school on the steps, refereeing street football games in front of the house, young voices gathering to debate who could take who across a multiverse of Anime shows, and even holding a small ted talk one evening to show some of the young boys how to brush their hair and tie a durag by the southern standard. Terry thoroughly enjoyed having little laughs, curious questions, and cheer around his house that helped him on those days when he felt the memories stuck in the walls and floorboards would consume him.

But it didn’t stop there, since the early summer had started Terry had attended…

Four spelling bees.

Eleven basketball and soccer games combined.

Two track meets.

Two school graduations.

One state science fair.

And even a Little Miss Peach Blossom pageant to watch little Laila participate.

With Dallas accompanying him to witness the 6’3 ex-marine quietly cheer and whop with a large glittering sign in hand, amongst the sea of mainly older middle age women, with almost the same ferocity he would at a Hawk’s game.

Though, she also unfortunately got to witness the display he’d later put on for her on the way home after Laila had taken home second place with a smile and a courteous polite wave just the way they’d practiced on his porch many times before, much to Terry’s disgruntlement.

“ That’s okay, baby girl. Chin up.” He had patted her on the back while carrying her tired form through the venue’s parking lot for her mother, “ You were the prettiest little peach up there. Proud of you.” He affirmed the sleepy princess, before buckling her in, seeing them off, and then proceeding to throw a fit to his girlfriend in his truck.

“ That little girl who won had uppers in her kitten heels, baby! I saw it! And her tutu wasn’t all that. Couldn’t even do the full four step duchess twirl in it the right way anyway.” Terry huffed, peeling out of the parking lot, “ It’s step, twirl, blow a kiss, then regal wave!”

“ That little girl blew a kiss first, then stepped, waved, and twirled. It’s wrong! Her routine was sloppy and her mama helped her with her question portion. Mouthing shit to her.” Terry fumed, while Dallas did her best to suppress her laughter at her boyfriend’s surprising investment and growing miniature tantrum that rivaled that of some of the actual toddlers they’d seen that day.

“ I told Deja , I think we should outta’ dispute this whole thing.” He shook his head, “ I wanna know how high up this shit goes.”

And at that statement Dallas decided to finally intervene, “ Terry, it was a beauty pageant for 3 to 10 year old's in the conference center of a Marriott, babe. Where the grand prize winner got $200 and a meal at the Cheesecake Factory.” She reached over to place a calming hand on his thigh, “ It’s not that serious, even Deja said so.”

Still that wasn’t enough to settle him, “ Dallas I don’t give a damn.” He fussed, “ That money could go in her college fund and you know that baby deserves her twenty five dollar spaghetti and piece of cold ass cheesecake.”

“ But that’s okay.” He nodded, tapping his steering wheel like Denzel in Training Day, “ We’ll be back for that crown. Believe that.”

And with all that combined, it didn’t come as a surprise to Dallas when loud knocks began on the pecan colored door while she brushed her teeth. Hurriedly she went and swung it open to find ten young kids, big and small alike, rallied on her boyfriend’s porch at 10:30 on a Saturday morning, eager to collect their favorite person.

“ Well Good Mornin’ everyone.” Dallas chirped, adjusting the white silk bonnet higher on her forehead, “ How are all of you today?”

A chorus of “ Morning Miss Dubois”, mixed with a couple “ Hi Miss Funeral Lady” and follow up responses of collective a “ Good” came from every which way, sending her into a fit of giggles at the adorable group of children in front of her.

“ That’s awesome, you guys. Well what can I do for you brood of little mighty people this morning?” A promise ringed hand finding a home on her hip. " And unfortunately before anyone asks, I don't quite have any treats today. Sorry, maybe next weekend."

The comment sending a wave of temporary pouts and mumbles of disapproval through the crowd until a voice rose above to bring them back to a focus.

“ We’re looking for Uncle Terry, ma’am.” One of the eldest, Morty, stepped forward, “ He’s supposed to be taking all of us in his truck to the basketball court this mornin’ for practice.”

“ We were also promised snacks!” Another voice in the back added among the mutters of agreeance as Dallas could recall large assorted Powerade packs and chip boxes on the backseat floor of his truck.

“ Oh I see.” She nodded, glancing at each individual little face, that all held the same excitement, “ Well, he’s just getting up right now. He got home a little later than usual from work last night and was tired, so he slept in a little bit. But let me go grab him real quick so he can give y’all your rundown for the day. Stay right here.”

She had coached them, before walking toward the back end of the house to go and awaken her lightly snoring boyfriend.

“ Bubs.” She lightly shook his shoulder, leaning down to place a kiss to his sleep line marked face.

Damn he was sleeping good.

“ Bubba.” Her shakes increased in force, “ Baby you gotta' get up.” Still her attempts were met with minimal noise or movement, meaning she had to up the ante.

Deciding to begin nipping at what skin the large forest green blanket didn’t cover, she had just made it to his neck when he decided to roll onto his back, instincts having him reach out and wrap his arms around the young mortician to guide her on his chest to hold her close.

“ Mmm.” He hummed, “ Baby I love you. But I need five more minutes before I’m cognizant enough to rock your world, girl.”

“ Oh my—” She huffed, taking in his smug sleepy smile, “ I didn’t wake you up for that, sir.”

Her fingers began to lightly play with the gold chain that sat idly on his bare chest, “ I woke you up because there are about ten kids on your front porch, all dressed up in their little basketball gear, asking for you.”

At this information, internally Terry groaned from fatigue, but on the outside his soft smile grew a couple more inches wide at the thought of his little group of miniature humans looking for him.

“ What time is it? “ The question escaping with a yawn.

“ A quarter to eleven.”

“ Damn.” He sighed, reaching for his phone to confirm her statement. A picture of Dallas smiling big on a playground swing appeared behind the correct white numbers on the screen, “ You let me sleep this late?”

“ You were tired.” She reasoned, pushing her face into the crook of his neck inhaling in his natural musk, “ You did almost ten hours in the hot ass Georgia sun on that site yesterday. You needed the rest.”

“ Mmm.” He hummed, running his hands up and down the grooves of her back, “ Still am.”

“ I know, Bubs. But—”

B A N G B A N G B A N G!

The loud and erratic pounds against the door were soon accompanied by distant loud but small voices beginning to fill with impatience.

“ C’mon you gotta' get up. They’re getting antsy cause I told them you were already up, so you gotta' hustle. Your disciples await you.” She teased, leaning up, amused at the frown on his face,“ What?!”

“ Don’t say it like that, baby. Like I’m forming a cult of the neighborhood youth.”

“ No, maybe not that.” Dallas got up to her feet, moving around to collect her things, “ But they do worship the ground you walk on. You know that. “

“ And for why. I don’t know. I’m just regular ole’ me.” He shrugged clambering to his feet to stretch out his long and tired limbs. “ Nothing special.”

Reaching on the floor for his wife beater he’d discarded from himself at some point in the night from overheating, he casually walked by a bent over Dallas, administering a firm tap to her backside as he exited the room as his form of a proper “Good Morning.”

Trudging through the hall to the front door, he took a deep breath before swinging it open and being met with the instant chaos that ensued when too many overly hyper voices began to speak all at once about a hundred different things.

“ Aye’ whoa whoa whoa.” He held up both hands, “ Wait a minute now.’ Y’all are too amped up and some people around here are still trying to enjoy sleeping in. So let’s be mindful of that.” His laugh came out in a deeper register as the remnants of sleep still lingered in his voice.

“ Everybody take a deep breath, one.” He instructed, watching as each kid took in a deep breath to hold for thirty seconds, “ Then let’s exhale, two.”

“ Repeat, one more time. And inhale, one.”

“ And exhale, two.” He said, watching the now settled down bunch carefully.

“ Okay. Now. Good Mornin’ y’all. Y’all sleep good? Ready to put some work in on the court?”

“ Yeah! “ They answered in unison, with Jamison Kimber being the one to point out,“ Told us you’d be ready at eleven. It’s…Eric what time it is?”

He asked his peer who carried the digital Pokémon watch on his wrist, “ It’s 11:14.” Eric informed, pushing up his matching classes on his nose.

“ Yeah. Which means you’re late.” Jamison pointed out, ensuing a string of after comments that made Terry grin with how goofy and entertaining they were at attempting to be disgruntled.

“ I know. My fault. My fault. My fault. Add some push ups on for my lateness once we hit the court.” He said, sticking to his own rule he’d previously set for them.

“ I woke up late. And I still need some time to get ready. So while I’m doing that, why don’t y’all step in the front yard and start some stretches and warm ups for 45. Then I’ll be ready to roll, alright.”

Looking toward the only girl in the brigade, whose game was better than most of her male peers surrounding her, Terry pointed in her direction.“ Goose is gonna be the caller and timer.”

“ So listen to her, alright. Because if I come back out and Goose tells me someone gave her a hard time we’ll have to cancel and try this again next week.”

“ Can everyone dig that?” He called out.

“ WITH A SHOVEL! ” They all gleefully responded.

Terry flashed all 32 of his teeth at the brood of children who quickly threw down their bags before racing to form a line in the front yard and begin their light stretches as told.

Dallas watched him shut the loud screen door behind him and he stop in his tracks when he spotted her standing there looking at him with a wide dopey smile on her face.

Eyebrows raised with a nervous smile, he questioned her appearance, “ What?”

“ Nothing.” She grinned, shaking her head and throwing up her hands in playful defense, “ Just admiring how good Uncle Terry is with the neighborhood kids. They really do adore you, babe.” She walked over, wrapping her arms around her his waist and leaning up for a sweet peck to his cheek that he happily reciprocated with about four more of his own.

“ I adore them too. Most days.” He added, “ When they’re not being mouthy, fighting each other, or all smelling like a fresh onion patch. They aight’.”

“ It’s a couple of them though, whose parents I’ve been meaning to ask for permission to have a conversation about hygiene with their kids. Because with the hotter it keeps outside…Ouueeee.” Terry goofed, shaking his head. “ Cannot have my truck smelling like a damn farm all summer.”

“ Well I’m sure they’d be okay with it. It takes a village, babe.” Dallas said resting her head against his chest just as Terry’s eyes caught where all her bags sat packed and ready to go.

“ You leaving? “ His pout instantaneous, not bothering to hide the natural little hint of disappointment in his voice at the prospect of his favorite girl leaving him.

Because if he had his way, she would never go. A thought that reminded him that he soon needed to reignite an important shelved conversation between the two of them.

“ Yeah.” She sighed, “ I’m gonna go a head’ and mosey on home. Need to get started on my list for the day.”

“ Gotta' feed Grimmey and then get started on some paperwork in my home office for the Grangier case before I head into the hospital later to assist on an autopsy.”

“ Oh? That sounds interesting. What, no bodies for you at the home today?” His hand, unconsciously softly kneading parts of her backside.

She shook her head pulling away from his embrace, “ Nope, we got two new ones yesterday but Macy is gonna embalm them this morning. She should actually already be done with the first one by now and starting on the second, which is why I offered to be an assistant at the hospital. For the hours.”

“ Right. And how long will that take?”

“Uh…for a whole procedure…It’s about four hours give or take. It’s a family requested one so we might run a bit over. But we’re starting at two. So I should be done and home showering by seven thirty.” She zipped the top of her Vera Bradley duffel closed. “Why? You need something?”

“ Nothing too crazy.” He shrugged, “ Was just hoping you’d be open to spending the night again. Mainly so I can return the favor from last night.”

With the favor being that after hearing how agitated and tired he was in the middle of a rather grueling work day on site managing a new build that wasn’t quite coming along right through a brief phone call exchanged on her lunch, Dallas had shown up extra early to his house before he got home with a refreshed ‘spend a night bag’ from her previous visit.

And supplies purchased from the local grocer, which included food that turned into a meal that delighted Terry’s senses the second he dragged his poor aching body through the front door.

As well as herbs and bubble bath that she mixed together with some epsom salt he already had lying around. So that after she fed him his nice home cooked meal of Mississippi pot roast, through much sleepy negotiations with the testy bear she had managed to coax him into a bath for him to marinate in her mixture while she washed the day off his body.

Then to seal the deal she had guided him to the bed and moisturized him down while searching for and massaging any sore muscles or strained ligaments. And finally, after that it wasn’t much else to do but to clothe the sleepy giant and lay him down for a well deserved rest.

“ Bubba, you don’t have to do all that just because I did.” Dallas reminded him, “ I didn’t do all that cause I was expecting anything in return, I did it because I love you.” She affirmed, unknowingly sending waves of warm bubbly feelings shooting through his chest when the three letter phrase he could never get tired of her saying met his ears.

“ I know that, baby.” He smirked, taking in the absolute blessing he found his girlfriend to be, “ But that still won’t sway me away from doing the same for you. You deserve it.”

And deserve it she did. Because for as hard as Terry felt he worked to keep his family’s business running smoothly, he believed that he watched Dallas work almost ten times as hard with her being a young black female owner of a generational critically acclaimed and highly lucrative mortuary business that has three locations spanning between two states. All whilst also keeping her autopsy assistant certification active at the hospital and constantly traveling to attend a plethora of different black business expos and other conferences who sought her attendance.

But what always seemed to amaze him the most was that with everything she constantly handled on a day to day basis, it was somehow like she never missed a beat in her personal life. Always managing to be a stable presence in the lives of her loved ones, including Terry’s. Which constantly made him proud at how effortlessly she kept it all together in her Manolo Blahnik heels that no other person in existence could ever dare imagine to try and fill.

My Mrs. Incredible. He thought.

“ Terry…if I come over that’ll make three nights in a row.” She pointed out, “ I dunnoooo.” She dragged, collecting her bags.

Immediately his previous smile downturned into a slight scowl at her hesitation, “ And…”

“ And…people talk, Terry.” Dallas sighed, “ It’s already not a good look that I stay here overnight anyway and vice versa when you’re at my place.”

“ I just don’t want anyone thinking we’re getting ready to shack up with one another is all.” She confessed, nervously swaying where she stood.

“ And by shack up, you mean us, together.” He motioned between you two, “ Happy and learning how to get comfortable sharing space a with each other for the next forever.”

His comment triggered an eyeroll, “ Terry. You know how I feel about us living together before we’re married, babe. I just don’t feel comfortable with that.”

“ Oh?” His eyebrows raised toward the ceiling as he said, “ Well say less. Cause we can go right up to city hall first thing Monday morning. Don’t take nothin’ to obtain some paperwork.”

“ Terry!” She chided.

“ Boo! “ He fired back. “ C’mon now. I need you to remember that the only reason you’re not walking around her with a new ring on your finger is because YOU wanted to wait. And I’m doing my best to respect that. But you know had it been up to me, we would've been biblically bound to each other a year ago.”

Still she shook her head and folded her arms across her chest, “ No, that’s not just it. And you know it’s not just me, Terrance. Because you and I both know one of the main reasons is that you and I both know I deserve a better proposal than what you offered me that night out of fear and adrenaline fueled guilt.”

“ Each of us deserves that much at this point.” She concluded.

With her point being one that the two of them could easily agree on. With parts of Terry still regretting his feverish and rash attempt at a proposal on the night of their reconciliation almost two and a half years ago.

Though, it was in the past now, and all Terry could do now was move along with his new plans of the proposal of her dreams, just the way they deserved.

But until then, he’d focused on getting to the bottom of her real reasoning for not wanting to combine households. Because he’d had enough practice at this point to spot a pretty little pageant answer when it was presented to him, and he just knew in his gut that there was something Dallas wasn’t providing.

“ I know, Precious. And I hear you.” He affirmed her with a smile before returning to the original topic at hand, “ But, baby . What is it really though? Huh? Because it can’t be the premarital sex part.” He mused, mind beginning conjure up theories.

“ Because if that’s the case, then I hate to tell you, baby. But we’re way past that point. As evidenced by the way you let me bend you over my bathroom sink the night before last and slow stroke you in the mirror after WE got out of the shower together.”

“ Terrance.” She gasped, going to lightly slap his chest, “ There are children out—

“ Bonnet on and all as I remember.” His laughter cut her off, catching her hand and kissing it before pulling her into him once more.

“ Terry.” She whined, “ You need to stop playin’ and go get ready before they all appear at the door again. But this time with intent to jump you for wasting time. Those tiny fists will hurt too.”

“ And you need to stop avoiding this conversation.” He quipped, offering her a sincere look and silently hoping to convey just how serious he took the matter.

“ Plus they’ll be alright. Even if that happens you can mend me up tonight after dinner while we have a discussion about your real qualms about our respective living situations possibly becoming one.” He followed up.

“ Boy! There is no other damn qualm—mmm.” The words passing her lips were cut short when he dipped his head to attach his there instead. Opting for a steamy and silencing smooch.

“ Sweet lips. Taste so good.” He pulled back, “ I’ll get another taste when you get here at 7:30, Precious, alright?”

When she didn’t say anything and instead continued to glare up at him angrily pouting, his hand made its way to her ass, giving her a timid smack of encouragement, “ Dallas...” He softly sang, head dipping to now place a kiss to her cheek while muttering, “ You know wanna lay in my arms tonight. Nowhere else you’d wanna be, girl.”

Oh, on the contrary.

She could have easily thought of a thousand and one other places she could think of being tonight rather than humid and hot ass Georgia. Yet it was true, she still couldn’t imagine any of these places feeling as good or being more appealing than the warm embrace of her Bubba.

Which is why her mouth found itself surrendering and releasing the words for her agreement just the way he’d wanted.

“ Good.” The smug smile sat on his face, the polar opposite of Dallas’s begrudged frown, “ I look forward to you coming home to me.”

His words doing well to somewhat chip at her attempts of putting up a shallow, almost dry wall, between them in this matter.

“ On second thought give me another kiss goodbye before I watch your fine ass walk out this door to hold me over while I haul these damn kids around all day.” He groaned.

“ Good Grief, Terrance. Go shower. Now!”

#4evermore series #terry richmond x black!oc #terry richmond imagine #terry richmond fanfic #arie writes #4evermore #aaron pierre #aaronpierre

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