“ blockin’ my call? don’t tempt me
promise i won’t let you forget me. ”
PAIRING married!teddy spencer x black fem!reader
IN WHICH, you abruptly end the year-long affair you’ve been having with theodore/teddy, a married man, and he doesn’t take it well.
CASSETTE Bout Mine - Mariah the scientist
¡WARNINGS! wc 5.6k ➺ lengthy smut!! 18+ MDNI, dark themes, strong language, cheating, manipulation, obsession, possessiveness, stalking, physical aggression, suggested sexual situations, body worship, pet names, choking, unprotected sex;p in v, creampie, breeding k!nk
A/N hi lovelies! ‘in his dreams’ part II coming soon ! my first attempt at writing a thriller, it’s one of my favorite genres to read so i wanted to give it a try! this is also my first time writing some smut in a minute (i blushed so hard writing it too LOL) please excuse any mistakes i may make 😭 i had so much fun with it though, let me know what yall think <3
the biggest mistake of your life is him.
at first there was nothing to be ashamed of. just quick glances back and forth at the bar after you'd had a long, fucked up day and needed a drink, or 4, to decompress.
the faint, melodic sound of rain riddling the roof served as a yet another sign that you weren’t supposed to be there. it wasn’t your usual bar of choice, but a client of yours lived on that side of town and needed you to make a house call. you usually didn’t do those, but you figured why not?
you observe the room. frantic bartender, chatty waitresses moving to and fro, the grating sound of chairs scraping the ground as tables are turned and repositioned, loud, drunken laughter. nothing out of the ordinary.
and then your eyes land on him. he sat a few stools down from you, nursing a glass of brown liquor, he already had a few beers from the looks of it.
the first thing you noticed about teddy was his impeccable posture. it was like he sat with a purpose. sure of himself, solid. dressed down in a long sleeved, navy blue shirt and grey slacks that complimented the color of his eyes perfectly.
your gaze drifts down his thick, muscular arms and stagger at the watch that adorned his wrist
you didn’t know much about men’s jewelry but you recognized that one, seen it on plenty of the male clients you’d represented. it was expensive as hell.
now, you see it. the glint of the gold wedding band he has on his finger. not too flashy, definitely not new
which begged the question: what was a guy like that, married and loaded, doing in a place like this? escapism? you wondered.
but that was your problem, always wondering, always curious about people. wanting to know more. and it eventually got you in a world of trouble.
he was just better at it, much more careful than you. the way he trained himself to be.
each time you lifted the glass to your mouth he stole a glance. unwavering and focused. tracing the curve of your wine red lipstick coated lips as they settled around the rim, the restless tap of your manicured fingers atop the bar, your curls slicked neatly into a puff at the base of your neck.
his curiosity sharpened when he overheard the tail-end of the heated phone call with an associate at your firm that you’d ended with a string of curse words he never knew sounded so good when used together.
he assumed it was a boyfriend, or someone you were dating, he didn’t know. or care
he just enjoyed watching you.
your eyes exposed every emotion that your face tried to hide.
and that was when he decided he’d watch you a little longer.
from then on stolen glances became intentional and precise. timed, almost. gentle smiles became lingering stares. batting eyelashes and hidden blushes. he had you right where he wanted—no, needed you.
now, he went in for the kill.
“you done letting people ruin your night?” he turned to ask, the corner of his lips curving into a knowing smirk, beautiful blue-green eyes glued to yours.
he was funny, charming. super witty. said all of the right things. so much so that you’d forgotten the married aspect of it all. the type of guy you could talk to for hours and he'd listen, interested in how the words leaving your drunken mouth have shaped you into the woman sitting in front of him,
which eventually turned into numbers being exchanged and late night conversations in his loft a block over.
you knew it was wrong, but you were so in it that by that point the lines of what was right were blurred.
one thing led to another like it always does with these things.
on a gloomy, rainy evening a couple of weeks later you were craving a listening ear. his. and he didn’t hesitate to be there for you.
his large veiny hand resting on your knee to serve as comfort after you both had one too many glasses of wine quickly became your mouths intertwining, and before you knew it your legs were being pinned into the sofa cushion behind your head, foreheads touching while he slowly slid in and out of the sticky mess you made, whispering dirty praises against your lips.
you were so disgusted with yourself after the first time that you avoided him for over a month. he called you almost every day, texted too. all ignored.
and then one day you leave work and he's sitting coolly on the hood of your car, bouquet of flowers in hand. saying everything he felt would make you feel better about the situation. the usual
"we haven’t been happy in a long time"
"we don't even have sex anymore"
"we’re getting a divorce"
then came the expensive gifts being left at your doorstep. flowers routinely delivered to your office. the spontaneous, well thought out dates. the weekend getaways. it was all so perfect.
and you always remembered.
looking back you don't understand how a woman with the education you have believed any of the lies he told you. maybe because you wanted to
maybe because you really liked (love) him and needed something, anything to make you feel better about the fucked up shit you were doing with this woman's husband.
but none of it matters now, because you ended everything a week ago.
it’s nearing nightfall and you’ve just finished one of your many daily avoidant activities: grocery shopping.
incorporating little domestic things like this into your routine has been helping ease you back to the normal that you’ve missed so much.
the cold, emptiness of your apartment greets you as soon as you slip out of your new balances. you set the bags onto the counter top, digging in your back pocket for your phone and thumb through the notifications you’ve been ignoring all day.
hundreds of missed calls stacked on top of each other, sappy text messages from different numbers, friend requests from fake pages, and work emails buried beneath the chaos. a heavy sigh leaves your lips at the sight.
and then, your phone starts ringing again in your hand. you don’t do anything with it. no answer, no decline, just stare down at the screens glow. hands trembling. skin riddled with goosebumps. silently begging for him to stop, to get tired of chasing you and finally leave you alone for good. the guilt is eating you alive at this point.
he has a wife, a son. a family at home. yet he still threaded himself into your life and refused to let go, even after you’d tried to do the right thing.
now you shuffle down the dim hallway to your bedroom.
you figure you’d shower first and then get dinner started, so you pull a satin night dress and matching panties out of their respective drawers and lay them out on your bed before trudging into the bathroom
the mirror is the last place you look these days. you’re afraid to see what looks back at you, how badly stopping everything has effected you.
and to make it even worse, he still filled every crevice of your mind, even after you’ve told yourself it had to end.
his deep, sultry laugh, him touching you in ways that nobody else had ever done before, the feeling of his pillowy lips quirking into a smile as he kissed you—
you shake your head rapidly, eyes tightened shut. breathing shaky, trying to stop the thoughts before they start. trying not to go back there.
you’re sitting at the edge of your sink now. back turned to your reflection dressed in nothing but a towel, and you watch as the steam begins to wind up into the air above the shower head
the hot water runs down your spine rinsing away all of the memories that keep looping
you stand there for a while before and after bathing, basking in the warmth of the fog as it wraps around you. you never want to leave. but you do anyway
after drying yourself off and slipping into the plush robe, still avoiding the mirror, you use muscle memory to weave your curls into a low thick braid down your back. then you pause
the soft hum of what sounds like r&b music echoes into your room from the hallway.
you know you didn’t turn anything on, and yes, you and your neighbors occasionally get each others alexa’s mixed up but this isn’t one of those times.
when you step back into your room your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. the music is louder now, and your eyes widen in horror at the sight of the large box of red roses sitting at the foot of your bed.
your whole body shudders.
slowly, you approach the flowers, heart pumping so hard it may burst through your ribs.
and you feel the color drain from your face the longer your eyes linger on the card at the top.
simple, but charged. it served the purpose he wanted it to.
your fingers dig into the sleeves of your robe, steadying you, and the music keeps playing. filling the apartment like he wants you to know he’s here
you let out a shaky breath before taking a step back from the box and quickly dressing yourself.
the knot in your stomach gets tighter with each step. feet padding softly against the wooden floor of the hallway, and the further you go the louder the music gets.
by the time you get to the entrance of the kitchen your heart is pounding so hard that it hurts. you stop suddenly, blood running cold
leaning back against the counter, toned arms bare beneath the white wife-beater, crossed over his chest. his leather jacket is thrown over the chair sitting underneath the island.
he’s relaxed. too relaxed. as if he rehearsed this
and his eyes set on you the moment you come into view. his jaw is tight, eyes dark, unreadable. not just anger, but something else too. hurt, maybe? it’s horrifying. like the calm before a storm.
the silence between the two of you is deafening.
you don’t know how he got in, or when, but the door hasn’t been forced open. the hinges are in tact, and there’s no signs of breakage at the lock
except, you’d never given him one.
the realization makes your breathing catch. skin crawling with fear as the music continues to play, all slow and intimate, patronizing.
the lamps are dimmed, casting a soft glow across the the room while the cities’ lights pour in from the windows, neon signs and passing headlights streaking across the glass
you gulp, wrapping your arms around yourself as comfort
“what are you doing here?”
his eyes drag over you, buffering at your legs and quickly snapping back up to yours “i’ve been calling you. for days, (Y/N).” he says, voice smooth and low but controlled, like he’s holding on to it “i didn’t want to talk, still don’t” you say back, barely above a whisper.
he scoffs quietly and shakes his head at you, a disbelieving smile on his face
“so you leave me with nothing but a stupid ass message saying you’re done with this—us—and i’m supposed to what?,” he unfolds his arms and places his hands flat on the counter behind him “leave you alone? like i don’t deserve a conversation?” he asks, head tilted at you, anger slowly slipping into his voice beneath the forced calm.
you laugh in shock. it’s like he can’t hear how crazy he sounds. that along with the theatrics, he’s clearly missing something.
“i don’t owe you anything, theodore.” you shoot back “you’re married.”
the room goes still as soon as it falls from your lips. a long silence stretches between the two of you, and his eyes never leave you for a second. he’s thinking, hard.
and then he reaches behind him for his phone, sliding his finger around on the screen which in turn stops the music from playing, the sudden silence somehow becomes way too loud.
the words cut like a knife, but he was right. you did know. and still, you can’t help but grimace at him
“and i ended it, right? but now you break in here— “i used a key,” he cuts you off firmly with an eyebrow raised, hand held up, correcting you as if that’s any better
“and you don’t get to play it like that, like this is all on me. like you didn’t call, or let me in.” he says, voice tight
“that doesn’t mean you force yourself into my place after blowing my phone up from all of these different numbers, making fake pages, then leave flowers on my bed while i’m showering to scare me like we’re in a fucking movie!” you snap at him, arms flailing wildly at your sides. meanwhile his expression is unwavering, ice cold
and then he shrugs. like none of what you just said is a big deal “i wasn’t trying to scare you.” he says calmly “i knocked. you didn’t answer, and i needed to see you.” which earns a scoff from you
“so what?! i shouldn’t be dealing with this after clearly telling you it’s over.” he exhales slowly from his nose, eyes closed as if he’s trying to rein himself in before pushing off of the counter toward you and you take a step back, head angled at him with wide eyes, nose flared, warning him to back off.
he notices your reaction to his sudden movement and stops his advance “you didn’t give me a choice.” he says pointedly “i fucking love you and you cut me out like what we have doesn’t mean anything” his voice cracks a bit. he’s more hurt than you expected him to be.
but you scoff again, shaking your head at him
“you don’t love me, you loved being able to escape from your real life. i was nothing but a break to you.” his jaw tightens at the venom in your words. nose flared, eyes darkening more than they already were, like a switch is flipped.
he closes the distance between you in three strides, and you back up just as quick but not quick enough, because now his hand is wrapped tightly around your neck, and you’re pressed up against the wall. trapped.
“don’t ever say that to me again.” he snarls “this was-is real. you feel it too,” he says through clenched teeth, forcing you to look up at him, so close you can practically feel the heat radiating off of him. you gasp for air, eyes wide, fingers grabbing at his for a chance at relief
his eyes manically search yours for any hint of mutuality. grip tightening “i know you do. look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t,” his voice drops dangerously low, almost taunting “say it.”
your throat burns with every attempt to breathe, you pull and scratch frantically at his fingers, desperate for air
and then, something in him snaps, and his grip stutters
his gaze drops to your parted mouth, then back to your terror-filled eyes and he lets out a shaky breath “fuck” he says mostly to himself, shock spreading across his face, grip loosening, and then he releases completely “shit, i didn’t mean to-” he gulps, “i just— i can’t lose you.”
you gasp heavily at the feeling of air filling your lungs, breathing choppy, chest heaving up and down. tears blurring your vision as they spill over
“t-teddy, why-..how could you..” you manage to whisper in between sobs, voice hoarse “i know,” he murmurs with softened eyes, regret laced into his tone now “i know, im so sorry, baby” he presses his forehead to yours, shaking his head
“i shouldn’t have touched you like that, im so sorry”
his hands leaves your throat and slides to your jaw instead, his thumb brushing your tear stained cheek.
he places a kiss on your forehead, and then your nose, and hovers his mouth above yours, moving in and retracting, as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light
you gulp hard, your eyes never leaving his
“what are we doing, teddy..” you say softly
“just be here with me, one more time” he’s tracing your lips with his now, teasingly “please” he whispers, almost begging
and then, you fall right back into him.
the kiss is soft at first, full of hesitation, you barely let your lips meet his
and then it deepens. slow and careful, and you hate how easily your body ignores the fear and the panic that lingers in your chest,
your cheeks burn with shame. because despite your throat still aching and your lungs still sharp with every breath, you melt into him.
your mouths move in perfect sync as they always do, his hand slowly travels your bodice, running along every dip and curve etched into your frame before he slides his palms around the back of your thighs and digs his fingers into the soft flesh beneath the crease of your ass, pulling you closer than you already are
you run your hands along his arms and then into the sandy brown bushel of his hair that you love so much, grabbing handfuls and snaking your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. his low moan vibrates against your lips
he slips his hand beneath your thigh and hikes your leg up over his hip, pinning you to the wall, his mouth completely engulfing yours and the huge bulge in his pants pressed up against the growing heat between your legs.
the hem of your night dress has risen above your hips now, exposing your periwinkle underwear. "body’s so perfect" he breaks the kiss and hums against your cheek, gripping and caressing your thick thighs
"everything about you is perfect" he grumbles as he traces his lips up your jaw before going back in for more, kissing you slow and gentle. making up for lost time.
you soften under his touch. the way his fingertips gently graze every inch of your skin sends chills down your spine,
and then you remember. because you always remember.
“wait” you say breathily into the kiss, earning a desperate groan in response "we— you pull away, resting your head against the wall “we can’t” you say, chest rising and falling quickly from the heat building between the two of you, fingers still curled into his tresses.
beyond hungry for him but reluctant to take it any further. trying to keep yourself from crossing lines you know you shouldn’t anymore. you can’t.
his gaze is locked onto you, eyes dark and desirous. "we can, baby. it’s just us" he says, brushing his lips against yours with heavy breaths, “let me show you how much i missed you” he places a gentle kiss to your lips and your pulse quickens. something like electricity runs through your body
he grazes a thumb over your hardened nipple through the satin fabric with one hand and rests the other at the curve of your waist where your leg meets his, pulling your hips in circles against his pelvis, watching your face contort in pleasure at the friction, lowering his mouth to your ear “i love making you feel good, princess” he whispers and you sigh, eyes fluttering shut
trailing kisses along the side of your neck, he latches his lips onto the sweet spot that he knows all too well, dragging a whimper from your lips at the feeling of the wet, warmth of his mouth suctioning your skin.
you want him so bad it hurts. and you know you shouldn’t.
he yanks the straps of your dress down your shoulders and hungrily places sloppy wet kisses along your collar bone and down to your chest, finally making contact with your breasts which earns a sharp gasp from you
you drag your short acrylics along the nape of his neck, cradling his head and squeezing your eyes shut as he suckles on both, slowly, sensually, cupping each one into his mouth at a time, circling your nipples with his tongue.
he presses his lips gently against your abdomen, right beneath your breasts and looks up at you before gripping underneath your thighs and hoisting you up onto his waist, you instinctively lock your legs around him as he walks you toward the couch, setting you down gently at the edge.
your hands travel along his back, still winding your hips against him and he hisses, hard as a rock at this point. without hesitation he pulls the dress down your torso, slides an arm beneath your lower back lifting you up to slip it down your legs and tossing it away in one swift motion, so eager to see you.
his eyes drift down to your center and he may as well be drooling the way he’s looking at you,
he trails a hand down your bare skin, massaging your pussy through the dampened lace panties and a shaky sigh falls from his lips at the sight of your pouty face. he hooks a thumb into your panties’ string, moving them over before slowly trailing up the slippery wetness of your slit and rubbing gentle circles against your throbbing pearl. the stickiness of your pussy echoes throughout the eerily quiet living room
he shuts his eyes tightly "so fucking wet," a low moan escapes his mouth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth
"i can’t wait to feel you”
now he’s hooking his hands beneath your knees and pulling you further along the couch before curling his fingers into the waistband of your panties and ripping—yes, ripping your underwear off of your body, earning a gasp
"teddy!" you whisper yell “i’m not wasting another second,” his hands find your chin, and he brushes his thumb over your lips “my pretty girl” he stares down at you for a while before retracting to get undressed
you watch him shyly as he pulls the wifebeater off first, the definition of his abs has you squeezing your thighs together. his body is a work of art.
then he removes his sweatpants, and the briefs beneath and his hard dick springs free, your eyes fixate on it like it’s the first time.
precum drips from his pretty, brown tip and the curve of his long thick shaft has you mesmerized.
before you can get a word out he shoves you back gently and climbs on top of you, using both hands to push your thighs forward
he's watching you as he strokes himself, sliding the head up and down your slit. his jaw falling slightly
“tell me what you want, and i’ll give it to you” he says, reaching for your waist and pulling your hips along the length of his shaft, you whimper at the feeling of him sliding himself in between your sticky folds, teasing you “i-i want it” you say and he curses under his breath “you want what baby? use your words for me”
“i want you to fuck me, stop teasing” you whine,
the words barely leave your mouth before he’s lowering himself on top of you.
he rests his forehead on yours, positioning his tip at your entrance and steadily guides himself into your warmth
you gasp into each others' mouths simultaneously as he goes deeper, stretching you out, your warm syrupy insides contorting to hug him just right "shit, girl" he breathes out huskily "mmmhmm" you moan, snaking your arms around to his back and pulling him closer, his body shuddering once he's fully inside of you
he starts slow, thrusts stuttering as your walls tighten around his length
"oh my gosh" you exasperate, tossing your head back into the couch cushion and grabbing at his muscly arms to ground yourself.
he places open mouth kisses up your jaw before sliding a hand around the nape of your neck, forcing your head down to his eyes, "don't look away from me. i need to see that pretty face" he says against your parted lips, tilting his head slightly and snaking his tongue deep into your mouth, making out slowly
he lifts himself up a bit, continuing to slowly grind and thrust his hips in circular motions into you, latching a hand onto your breast and gently squeezing as they bounce on impact, your soft moans like music to his ears.
"so fucking beautiful taking this dick" he breathes, speeding his pace a little "please don't stop" you squeak,
somehow you feel him get even harder inside of you.
he repositions himself on top and pushes your thighs back, using them as leverage, watching his dick glisten from the thick coat of your juices as he slides in and out of your pretty, creamy pussy, admiring the mess you've made all over him "look at what you did, you hear that? you get so wet for me" he grunts into a moan, going faster
he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls you into each stroke, driving you wild, warm tears roll down your cheeks
he pushes himself further into you, and you cry out at the feeling of his tip hitting your spot
he wraps a hand around your throat before bringing your face to his
"you really thought i would give you up that easily? hmm? you know this shit is mine, and you better not ever disappear like that again, you understand me?" he growls into your ear, breathing ragged and heavy against your skin, "y-yes, mmmm" you whine, trying to catch your breath
"yes what?" he asks sternly, thick fingers pressing gently into the flesh beneath your jaw
"good girl" he praises, smirking down at you, bringing you even closer, he groans against your parted lips before attacking them, tightening the grip he has on your neck and tangling your braid into his fingers to anchor himself
he whispers sweet nothings against your lips, grinding slower, harder, intertwining your fingers with his above your head.
"mmmm fuckk" you whine, eyes fluttering closed heat coiling low in your gut from the penetration, he smirks, "hold it baby, i know you can" he breathes out, as if he can sense a climax coming
he angles himself sideways, going even deeper, and it feels like he's trying to dig into your soul
he’s hitting exactly where he needs to, his thrusts are so precise. like he knows your body inside and out.
"t-teddy" you're gasping for air. he brushes his lips onto yours before giving you the nastiest, sloppiest kiss ever
"i love you so much (Y/N), this pussy s-so fucking good" he moans into the kiss, his breathing shaky, you grab at the plush cushion beneath you, mouth agape, the pressure in your lower stomach roiling and churning like an angry river into a dam that's getting ready to break, walls tightening around him
“you ready to cum for me? hmm? " he purrs
and then the dam fucking explodes
you cry out loudly, not caring who hears you, releasing all over him. the warm liquid spilling everywhere.
"shitttt,” he hisses, “just like that, cum all over this dick" he keeps thrusting, mouth agape as he watches your pretty pussy drip like a broken faucet, squelching with each stroke "such a good girl. it’s all yours, baby" he says huskily,
his length begins to throb inside of you and his strokes get sloppier and less controlled, his breathing picking up and eyebrows pulled together
you place a hand on his lower abdomen attempting to push him out before he cums, but he immediately grabs it and pins it down to your thigh, tightening the grip he has on you, a sinister smile creeping onto his face.
"mm mm,” he grunts, shaking his head “this is forever, and i'm making sure of that." your eyes widen at the realization that he's not going to pull out. he's not going to stop, not like he usually does..
and then you feel him twitch inside of you, he parts his lips, jaw falling slack, eyes rolled to the back of his head "t-teddy don't-you almost beg, using your free hand to push harder at his stomach but he's already there "oh my f-fucking—nngghhh" a deep, guttural moan escapes from his throat as his body jerks on top of you
he groans, pushing himself as deep as he can go into your warmth, fingers digging into your thighs to hold you in place as he fills you up with the thick, creamy nut that you milked out of him, and you gasp at the feeling of his warm seed infiltrating your walls, shock and horror decorating your face beneath the pleasure
he stays inside for a while, aftershocks still coursing through him. and then finally, slowly, he removes himself before laying flat on top of you, head resting in the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses at your shoulder blade.
you both lay there. breathless, speechless
"i just have to make sure you don’t leave me again. i can’t live without you" he lifts his head up to look down at you, still panting, tracing a thumb along your cheek
"...you shouldn’t have done that.” you whisper, anger simmering “it’s too reckless. all of this is. you have a family-" "shhh, it's okay baby. i'll take care of you,” he trails a hand to your stomach, rubbing gentle circles over your skin, “our family." he brings his lips to your forehead.
then lowers himself to your ear
"but if i find out you've done anything to stop it, and i promise i will," his tone is low and dangerous now. like a warning
"you won't like what happens next." he places a kiss at your temple, holds your eyes for a few seconds as if to burn the promise into your mind before climbing off of you and scavenging for his clothes that have been scattered around the room.
did he plan this? is that why he came to ‘talk’ ? to trap you?
and you were stupid enough to fall right into it.
your mind is running a million miles a minute as you quietly try to figure out your next move.
he steps into the briefs and turns back around to face you, scanning you up and down as you lay naked and trembling on the couch, the back of your throat burning from the tears beginning to well
“i’ll get dinner started,” he says sweetly, yet another switch flipped, fumbling with his shirt before pulling it over his head “you just relax, okay?” he’s still eyeing you. looking for a response that you can’t give him. the words refuse to leave, and all you can do is nod
he’s fully dressed now, and you’re still frozen in place. he bends to grab the night dress off of the loveseat before stepping closer to you and pulling you upright. he then helps you back into it, no words, just silence between you. the only sound filling the room being the faint sound of your sniffles and uneven breathing
a year ago you would have laughed if someone told you this was the reality you would be facing. but deep down, you knew sneaking around with someone’s husband was never going to end well.
and part of you can’t help but wonder if maybe this is what you deserve.
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