Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC (Havana)
Wordcount: +1.8k
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as slight cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, ALL fluff and cuteness
A/N: I did NOT proofread this one as much because I just wanted to write and put something out. I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @theereinawrites. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
Masterlist: 📃
Christmas was days away, and in full effect in our home.
What was once a small, cozy apartment was now a winter wonderland. Almost a small replica of what you’d imagine Santa’s workshop looked like.
The small space was crammed with an overstimulating assortment of decorations. Waves of chunky garland ropes were strung from every wall. Large pine wreaths with golden bells, sparkly red and green bows, and bright red poinsettias adorned the doors. White snowflakes made of satin dangled from the ceilings. Soft white string lights lined the walls and cast a faint shadow across every surface in the living room, kitchen, and down the hall. The kitchen cabinets were wrapped in extravagant red ribbons and bows, making them resemble gifts. A large Christmas tree sat in the corner of the living room near the window— gaudy in nature and design; filled with multicolored lights, red felt bows, wrapped from top to bottom in silver tinsel, and simple red and green ornaments that weighed down the branches.
I can admit that I overdid it, but I wanted this Christmas to be special since it was our first Christmas together. Terry and I were spending this holiday alone as a couple, not so much by choice.
His parents were on a cruise, and all of his siblings were visiting their in-laws. Monnie and her bf were visiting her parents, who lived out of state. So that left Terry and me here, alone. Or, so we thought.
“So, what do you want from Santa?” I asked my little cousin as I sat on the bed beside him.
“Ion know,” he whispered, pulling his knees up into his chest and resting his head between his legs.
Watching as sadness slowly crept into the heart of my six-year-old little cousin was not my bingo card. Terry and I had agreed to watch him for a few days while his mother recovered from COVID. What we thought would be a few days had turned into a little over a week. He was no longer being his bubbly, energetic self. After the past few days, it was clear that the cookies, hot chocolate, and singing were only going to help so much.
Luckily for me, I had a great man by my side. Once Terry started to notice the change in my little cousin's attitude, he started taking him to work with him. It seemed to help a bit, but still, it was certainly not enough because I know he wanted nothing more than to see his mama.
“You don't know? Whaaat?! You telling me you ain't write your list yet?” I asked, rubbing his back.
“No,” he pouts, “I really just want my mommy. Is she okay, Vana?” The look on his face as he leaned up broke my heart.
“Yes, baby. She's okay,” I replied.
“Can I see her?” He asked timidly.
I leaned over and pulled him into a hug. “You can as soon as she feels better, Boogie,” I said, placing a kiss on the top of his head.
Silence filled the room as he sat with my answer.
“Vana, what if she doesn't get better? Paw Paw says she has the nona virus,” he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
I giggled at his mispronunciation, “Yes, she has the coronavirus. That's why you can't see her just yet. She doesn't wanna get you sick, Boog.”
“But, I don't care about getting sick,” he cried.
“Ok. Hey, listen…,” I said, gently pulling his chin to face me. “What if… we called her? Would you like that?”.
“Yes!”, he sat up on the bed, facing me.
“Ok, I'll go get my phone and call her. If she answers, we'll ask her if she can FaceTime us. Cool?”
“Yes!” he screamed, kneeling on the bed with excitement.
I scooted to the edge of the bed, walking towards the door. I slowly opened the door and closed it softly, leaving it cracked. I peeked back into the room to see him twiddling his thumbs with nervousness. I sulked in slight disappointment with myself. I felt like I was ruining this baby's Christmas. Had I not done enough? Did I not include him enough? Was there something that I was mi—
“Need some help in there?” Terry asked softly as I turned around to face him.
“No. Go get some rest. You've been at work all day. I'll warm up your food after I figure all this out,” I said, feeling gutted.
“Vana. Baby, you don't have to do this by y—,” Terry started to speak before I slid past him.
“Terry, go shower. I'm fine, honey. I promise.”
I walked down the hall to get my phone that I had left in the kitchen. I found it resting on the island still covered in flour from earlier’s little baking fiasco.
Picking up the phone and frantically dialing the number, I prayed that she would answer.
ring
ring
ring
click
“He—,” she coughs, “hello.”
“H— hey, ummm….,” I stuttered.
“Vana?” she questioned.
“Yeah, it's me. You up to talking?” I pleaded.
“Yeah. Is it Boogie? He bothering you? I know he can be a handful.” Her voice cracked slightly.
“No. He's just worried about you. I think he's more concerned with you than Christmas,” I chuckled.
“Mmmm… Aww… Him worried bout his mommy.”
“Girl! He misses you like crazy and won't let us forget it!” I affirmed loudly, maybe too loudly.
Silence took over the conversation. A pause that seemed to stretch for far too long.
I rolled my shoulders. “If you feel up to it, can I FaceTime you? He's going insane, but I can come up with an excuse if y—.” I was starting to ramble.
“Hell, no. Go give my baby this phone and call me right back,” she yelled with excitement.
“Damn. Aggressive much?” I laughed.
“My bad,” she giggled in slight embarrassment, “I guess I miss my baby, too.”
I floated through the apartment as I redialed her number. Eagerness and excitement coursed through my veins. My adrenaline was spiking by the second.
“Oh, Boogie! Someone wants to speak to you,” I sang as I opened the door. I walked over to him and handed him the phone.
I could hear her through the other end as she spoke.
“Hi, baby,” she said.
“Mommy!!!” he yelled, jumping up on the bed. He held the phone directly in front of his face.
“How are y—,” she started to speak.
“You okay, mommy? You still sick? The nona virus gone, yet?! Can I come ho—,” he rattled off.
I could sense just how elated he was to hear his mother’s voice, but most of all see her face.
“Ouuu, slow down, baby. One question at a time. Momma's brain ain't functioning that fast right now.” Laughter rattled through her chest. It was clear that she was still sick.
I laughed quietly to myself.
I turned and moved towards the door. “I'm going to leave you two alone. Alright? I'll be in the kitchen, ok?”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, too focused on the phone to look at me.
I sauntered into the kitchen, feeling like I had possibly saved this baby’s Christmas. I knew I could’ve called her sooner, but I didn’t want to bother her. Plus, the last time we spoke, she couldn’t speak at all. Her voice was practically gone and hoarse. She didn’t want to FaceTime because she knew Boog couldn’t handle seeing her that sick. She was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to IVs, and had oxygen tubes in her nose. Boogie was such a sensitive baby, and luckily, his mother was in tune with her child.
I quietly danced around the kitchen as I fixed Terry’s plate. Placing it in the microwave to warm up, I spun around and wiggled my hips to the music in my head. I leaned on the counter and waited patiently for them to finish talking.
A few minutes had passed before I heard someone coming out of a room.
“So… How you feelin’, Boog?” I asked while walking around the island.
“I take it that that means you handled it, huh?” Terry asked, rounding the corner. He was rubbing a towel through his lumpy curls.
“Yes, sorta.” I bit my bottom lip.
“Whatchu mean?” Terry asked, leaning down to kiss me on the lips.
“He’s facetiming with her, but I know he wants to physically see her.” I hugged Terry’s waist, pulling him closer to me.
“Then, we gone make it happen,” he said, placing kisses on top of my head.
“How?” I stepped back to look into his eyes. Confusion spread across my face.
“Ask her if we can bring him by? If she can make it to the door, he can see her that way.”
“Shit, why d—… Shoot, why didn’t I think of that? See, that’s why I love you.” I corrected myself.
“Well, I can think of other reasons why you love me.” Terry winked.
“Like what with yo’ nasty ass?” I grabbed his shirt.
“This big ass d—,” Terry started.
Before he could finish, we heard the guest bedroom door open. A rumble of quick footsteps rushed into the kitchen.
“Mommy wants to talk to you!” Boogie yelled, handing me the phone.
A smile plastered his cute little face. His chubby cheeks had practically closed his eyes, turning them into slits.
“Yes?” I asked, smiling down at him.
“Thank you so much, Vana. You and Terry are angels for this,” she said appreciatively.
“You’re welcome,” Terry and I responded in unison.
“Ask her,” Terry mouthed.
“So, Terry had a great idea. But first… Would you be able to walk to the front door?” I asked.
“Yeah. It might take me a minute, but I can get there,” she laughed.
“Ok, so how would you feel about us bringing Boogie to see you?”
“Vana, that seems like a lot. Y’all live almost an hour away.” She sat up and leaned back against the headboard.
Terry’s eyes roamed between Boog and me. He squatted down in front of him and placed his hands on his shoulders.
“Go get your shoes,” he instructed.
Before any more words could be spoken, Boog took off into the room.
“Terry!” I yelled while laughing.
“You go get your shoes, and tell her we’re on the way,” Terry smirked.
I looked down at the phone. She was staring back at me with the biggest smile on her face. I could tell by how she tucked her lips that she wanted to laugh.
“You heard that man. Go get your shoes, and bring me my baby!”
I rolled my eyes, pretending not to smile. Leave it to Terry to save the day.
pairing: professor!terry x black reader
warnings: nsfw, explicit smut (18+), d/s dynamics, cockwarming, teasing, choking, use of names (sir), impact play (implied), slight degradation kink and aftercare (light)
synopsis: she thought she could break his focus with "subtle" actions. she was wrong. terry richmond doesn't break; he simply re-structures the environment to suit his needs. what follows is a slow-burn descent from playful flirting to a rhythmic, punishing lesson in what it means to be truly silent and still.
word count: 1.3k
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The stack of papers sat between them like a quiet accusation.
He had arranged them neatly, squared to the edge of the desk, a pen aligned with military precision beside them. Glasses low on his nose. Sleeves rolled just enough to expose his forearms — veins visible when his hand moved, deliberate, unhurried.
She leaned against the doorframe, watching him work.
“Do you ever get bored of this?” she asked lightly, nodding toward the mountain of assignments. “Or do you secretly enjoy being this… diligent?”
His pen paused mid-sentence.
He didn’t look up.
“You’re distracting me,” he said flatly, as if stating a fact rather than a complaint.
She smiled.
“That’s not an answer.”
A faint exhale left him — restrained, almost indulgent. He finally glanced at her over the rim of his glasses, expression unreadable.
“These need marking,” he said. “They won’t do themselves.”
“And you won’t even look at me while you say that?” she teased, stepping closer. “Harsh.”
He returned to his work.
That was when she knew he was doing it on purpose.
The minutes stretched. The room filled with the soft sounds of paper turning, pen scratching, the quiet tick of the clock. She circled him slowly, perching on the edge of the desk, crossing and uncrossing her legs just enough to test him.
Nothing.
She sighed theatrically. “You know, most people would be flattered by the attention.”
“I am,” he replied calmly. “I’m simply not rewarding it.”
That earned a pause.
She tilted her head. “Oh?”
His pen clicked once, decisive.
“Strip,” he said.
The word landed heavy in the air — not raised, not rushed. A command, clean and final.
She stilled.
His eyes lifted fully this time, dark, focused, unblinking.
“Sit,” he continued, nodding to the space directly in front of him. “Still. Silent.”
Her breath caught — not from fear, but from the sudden understanding that this wasn’t flirtation anymore.
It was structure.
She obeyed.
And as he returned his attention to the papers, pen moving once more, she realised with a shiver that this wasn’t about what he wanted from her.
It was about what he was willing to deny.
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She moved, her body trembling with a mixture of anticipation and indignation. She lowered herself onto his lap, straddling his thighs, settling the slick heat of her core onto the solid, unyielding length of him. His trousers were a rough barrier against her skin, only his member granted access, a partial satiation designed to torment.
Pleasure without purpose is punishment.
She complied briefly, her mind racing with a hubris that was quickly fading. She was certain her presence, the heat, the friction, would be enough to break his resolve. He would forego his duties, toss the papers aside, and focus on the act.
But he remained indifferent, unassuaged. His hand moved across the page, marking a student’s work with the same detached focus he had before. He wasn't even looking at her.
She was the first to break.
It started with a miniscule rock of her hips, almost imperceptible, a nervous twitch more than a deliberate movement. Terry knew her all too well. A slight lift, then a shortened breath earned her a scornful look, a slow, deliberate glance over the rim of his glasses that felt like a physical slap.
“Still.”
The single word was a lash. She defeatedly withdrew and ceased, freezing in place. The humiliation was exquisite. She was so still, she almost felt bored enough to start reading the papers with him, wanting to know which student’s work could possibly have him so captivated. Little did she know that he wasn't even concentrating; this was all an act, a game, and a lesson in one.
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Absentmindedly, the heat and the pressure becoming too much to bear, she recommenced her ministrations, a slow, grinding circle that was purely instinctual. She only realised what she’d done until a firm hand with a burning grip joined her waist, halting her movement instantly.
He pushed her down, a grinding stop that forced the friction to an almost unbearable peak. It was the first true sensation she’d felt all night, and a desperate, ragged moan bubbled in her throat.
Terry finally lowered his glasses, his dark eyes fixed on hers. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through her core.
“Silent.”
The final command was a promise of pain. She swallowed the sound, but the whimper escaped anyway.
“There’s nothing silent about whining. Do I have to remind you, what that means?”
She almost jumped off him with excitement at the prospect of finally getting what she wanted, but Terry, ever the tease and control master, didn't even budge. He simply held her in that agonising, friction-filled position, his eyes demanding compliance.
Her patience, already worn thin, snapped. She twisted her hips, a sharp, outward act of disobedience, trying to force a reaction, a movement, anything to break the stalemate. She wanted him to reprimand her, to punish her, to give her exactly the thing she had been wanting all along.
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As the last vestiges of control burned away, his eyes darkened — revealing the man beneath. He didn't move the papers, but with a powerful shift of his weight, he used his legs to push the armchair back several feet, creating a necessary, deliberate space. He was still seated, still the master of the scene, but now he was ready to work.
His hand remained at her waist, but another met her throat. Not threatening, but a clear, possessive claim.
“Four simple instructions,” he growled, his voice low and thick.
He thrust upward, a sudden, deep stroke that stole the air from her lungs. Her back arched, a desperate gasp escaping her lips.
“Were they too hard?” Thrust.
The friction was immediate, the depth agonisingly perfect. She was fully impaled, stretched, and filled, yet she was the one on top, the one seemingly in control. It was a beautiful, terrible irony.
“Answer me.” Thrust.
He was doing all the work, his hips driving up with a rhythmic, punishing force that made her teeth clench. The rough material of his trousers rubbed against her inner thighs, a constant, abrasive reminder of his partial clothing and her complete bareness.
“I asked you a question...” Thrust.
Her vision swam, the pleasure too sharp, too sudden to form a coherent thought. She could only shake her head, the movement slight against the pressure of his hand.
“No,” she managed to choke out, the words barely a whisper.
“No, what?” Thrust.
“No, Sir.” Perfectly shaped tears graced the corners of her eyes by now.
“No, Sir, what?” Thrust.
The question was punctuated by a stroke so deep it hit the back of her womb, sending a jolt of pure white heat through her core. She was a puppet on his strings, her body responding to his every command, his every movement.
“No, Sir, I didn’t think you would notice,” she gasped, the confession ripped from her.
He released her throat, only to grip her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he set a relentless, driving pace. The chair creaked under the strain, the sound a counterpoint to the sinful rhythm of their bodies. He was punishing her, yes, but the punishment was exactly the pleasure she craved.
She came apart on him, a shattering, violent release that left her weak and trembling. Her head fell back, her body convulsing around him, pulling a low, guttural groan from his chest — the first sound of genuine loss of control he had made all night.
When it was over, he didn't move. He simply held her, letting the aftershocks subside. He listened as her breathing settled and her body stilled and soothed. Then, with a quiet efficiency that was almost clinical, he adjusted his trousers, re-buckled his belt, and gently lifted her off his lap.
She collapsed onto the couch beside the desk, sprawled and spent, her skin slick with sweat, her mind blissfully empty.
Terry, however, returned to his chair. He picked up his pen, adjusted his glasses, and pulled the stack of papers back into alignment. The only evidence of the storm that had just passed was the slight tremor in his hand and her laying naked and broken beside him.
He cleared his throat, the sound a quiet, final punctuation mark.
“Now,” he murmured, his voice back to its familiar, professorial cadence. “Where were we?”
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a/n: something short and sweet to end the year with, and what better way than with terry! thank you to everyone who’s shown me love with the fics this year. i appreciate every single one of you. as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback 🫶🏾🫶🏾
Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Black fem reader (Penelope aka "Penny")
*Gentle Reminder: YOU are in charge of your own consumption. 18 & up audiences only; minors, please don't interact!* THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!
SUMMARY: Penelope wishes she could get rest. Insomnia doesn’t even begin to describe her inability to sleep. She’s tried it all: melatonin, hypnosis, sleeping pills, you name it. On her last straw, she visits her best friend, Georgia, who has something that just might work. But, she doesn’t warn Penelope about the vivid dreams that accompany it…
PAIRING: Erik Killmonger x Elias (Stack) Moore x Elijah (Smoke) More x Penelope “Penny” (reader)
WARNINGS: SMUT; porn with little plot; language; BDSM themes; if I leave something out tell me.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I got the idea for this from a dream of my own after binging Supernatural, but I decided to tweak it a little and bring it to life on the page. I’ve been gone for a while, but I hope you guys enjoy something new from me. I want to make this into a series. As always, constructive criticism is welcome, but babygirl is sensitive, so be gentle. I definitely have ideas for making this into a series, if you guys want more, that is. Happy reading, my loves !! If there’s anyone I forgot to tag please comment and let me know!!
WORD COUNT: 2.5K
REM SLEEP (rapid eye movement): A stage of the sleep cycle characterized by rapid eye movements, vivid dreaming, and high brain activity that’s similar to being awake.
NIGHT ONE.
“Georgia, are you sure this shit’s going to work?” you ask, eyeing the bag of the african dream root she'd given you.
“Penny, my aunt swears by it. You know her PTSD is really bad, it helps her sleep after the worst nightmares.” Georgia said, rubbing your arm. “You haven’t slept peacefully in months. Come on, you’re tired, barely making it through your shifts. You need rest or you’ll burn out more than you already have. Just try it tonight, and if it doesn’t work, you can throw it in the trash,” you watch as she tops off the bag with more tea leaves. Thanking her, you take the bag, and head towards the door hugging Georgia on your way out.
Once you got home, you did your regular nighttime routine, made your tea and settled into bed. Turning on your soft mood lighting, you grab your kindle and settle into bed. You’re reading a why choose romance, where a woman is at the mercy of three male suitors. She’s tied to an extravagant bed while they use her for their pleasure, and she’s enjoying every second of it. You’re on the second chapter of orgasms when your eyes begin to droop.
“Mmm, my pretty Penny, how wet are you for me hmm?” You blink your eyes open, the figure on top of you slowly coming into focus. Sepia colored skin, marred by keloid scars. Muscular torso with a tapered waist that led to an impressive bulge. Though, as the room around you came more into focus there was no denying that this was Erik Killmonger. His tapered locs hanging freely, just barely showing his eyes, a dangerous smirk painted on his face, and his skin glowing in the hazy light. Glistening with oil or sweat, you didn’t know, but it was hot as hell.
“Erik?” you question.
“What are you doing?” you mumbled, your eyes drifting lower to see the bulge in his briefs.
He leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he purred, “What does it look like I’m doing baby? I’m taking what’s mine, and there isn’t a fucking thing you can do about it.” You try to reach for him, but are met with resistance. Glancing up, you see that your wrists are tied to the bed frame, struggling to free yourself proves useless. Goosebumps pepper your skin as Erik’s strong, large hands rest on your thighs. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine.
“What do you say, we put that pretty mouth of yours to good use?” Erik’s lips brushed your neck with every word, making you arch into him.
“What’s going on?”, you ask, your mind reeling trying to grasp the situation in front of you.
Erik chuckles against your neck, “Baby I thought that was obvious.” He leans back, his onyx eyes focused on you. Chest heaving with lust, lips plump and moist. You couldn’t help but bite your own at the thought of them on your body, kissing, licking, and sucking. You glance down at your body, your eyes widening at your bare frame. Only a thin pair of blood red panties on, pushed to the side. This is crazy! There’s no way that the fictional man of your dreams has you tied to bed practically naked. Fuck it, you thought. If this is the only chance you have to fuck the man of your dreams, you’re going to take it. Erik feels your body soften against the restraints, legs widening to accommodate his size.
“That’s right mama, let me in. Let me worship you, take you, please you and make you mine.” Erik pulls back, his eyes focused on yours, impatiently waiting to defile you.
Your eyes roll back in your head as Erik’s hands grab your heaving breasts. His calloused hands immediately find your sensitive mounds, kneading and groping as he leans in to capture a pert nipple between his teeth. You whine, unable to hide the need in your voice as Erik sucks and tugs your nipple with his expert mouth, as his hand reaches up to tease your other nipple.
“Yeah baby, let me hear you,” Erik moans into your flesh.
“I want it all, your moans, screams, your cum. I want you crying, begging, and pleading until my name is the only thing you remember,” Erik moans his mouth leaving no part of your breasts untouched.
“Mm, more E, please,” you moan. Your hips canting in the air hoping to find some kind of friction.
“There she is,”Erik smiles, his signature gold slugs making an appearance. “Where do you want my mouth?”
“Kiss me,” you respond immediately. So desperate to feel his lips on yours. Something similar to a growl leaves his lips before they meet yours in a heated passionate kiss. Tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours as mewls and moans are released from you. You struggle against your restraints wanting to touch him, run your fingers through his locs, claw at the defined muscles of his back, you wanted it all. The kiss is a dance of dominance and desire, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as if he’s claiming you, possessing you utterly. He pours all of his pent up passion and longing into the kiss, his lips moving against your with a fervor that takes your breath away.
One hand tangles in your hair, gripping your braids and angling your head to deepen the kiss further. The other hand slips between you and the sheet to grip your ass pressing your wet pussy against his leg. You immediately search for friction, grinding your warm center against his leg. As the kiss intensifies, your hips continue their relentless rhythm, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Erik swallows your moans, following up with a few of his own. You can barely think, in a kiss drunk state all you’re able to do is whine and moan.
“Erik, please,” you beg against his lips.
Breaking the kiss, Erik trails his lips down your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin hard enough to leave marks. His teeth graze your pulse point before latching onto it, sucking hard enough to make you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.
“That’s it Penny , let me hear all those sounds,” he growls against your throat, his voice rough with lust. “You’re mine now, all mine. I’m going to break your body apart piece by piece and put you back together again.”
You fight against the restraints, desperate to touch him, touch yourself, fuck it you just wanted friction. “Erik, touch me please,”you whine. His thigh was so slick with your juices, you ‘d be embarrassed if you weren’t so horny. He pulls away from your neck with a guttural groan, his eyes blazing with primal hunger as they lock onto yours.
“Need more?” He smirks, his fingers trailing down your torso to tease your clit with slow deliberate circles.
You whined, throwing your head back as you babbled incoherently. “Yes baby, I… I n-need more. S-so much more. Untie me please,” you cry out, pulling on your restraints.
Erik leans back, a cold smirk on his face, “Why should I untie you pretty Penny?”
You groan, your mind delirious with need, “Because, I want to pull your hair, while you eat my pussy daddy. Please don’t deny me,” you whine.
A low appreciative groan rumbles in his chest at your request. “Mmm, you nasty bitch.”
Your body arches as Erik kisses a trail of fire down the length of your body, pausing to lavish attention to each hip, no doubt leaving marks behind. Continuing his descent, he settles between your thighs. He inhales deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent. Reaching out he parts your pussy lips admiring your glistening flower.
“Fuck, you smell so good. You this wet for me baby?” Without waiting for you to answer, he dives right in. His tongue delving between your folds to taste your essence directly from the source. He laps at your slit hungrily, alternating between broad flat strokes and targeted flicks against your clit.
His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he feasts on your pussy like a man starved. Your hands grip the back of Erik’s head pulling him closer, a high pitched whine leaving your lips as you began to ride his face. His nose bumping your clit as your hips circled his mouth.
“That’s it baby ride my fucking face, use me,” Erik moans, tongue deep in your cunt. In the dimly lit room you see the slick shine that’s convering his face, making you moan even louder.
“K- Keep eating me Daddy, just like that,” you finish with a moan. Biting your lip you look down to meet Erik’s eyes. He focuses his attention on your clit, flicking and circiling the sensitive nub with the top of his tongue while two fingers thrust deep into your dripping core. He curls his finger deep, rubbing against that spot that has your toes curling and you seeing stars. Your back arched, hips nearly leaving the mattress, but Erik’s arm pinned you down.
“Nah baby, don’t run away from this. You take everything I give you,” he murmurs against your flesh, the vibrations adding to your pleasure.
“I could eat this sweet little pussy for hours,” to emphasize his point, he seals his lips around your clit hard. Simultaneously pumping his fingers faster and deeper, determined to push you over the edge.
“Oouu yes baby! That’s it! Right there!” you moan, as you feel your release beginning to build. Your abdomen tightening, your pussy buzzing with that delicious burn, and your hips picking up to a rhythm of their own.
“Your fucking mouth feels so good on my pussy daddy! Keep going I’m ganna fucking squirt!”
Erik doubles his efforts at your words, driven wild by the knowledge that he’s bringing you to such heights of ecstasy. His tongue dances over your clit in rapid fluttering motions as he adds a finger. The noises heard from you pussy are past pornographic and just downright nasty.
“That’s right baby. Let go for Daddy. Squirt all over my face like the nasty little slut you are,” he growls against your pussy, his filthy words only fueling the fire that was burning in your belly.
“I want to taste your cum, to feel it gushing down my throat as I make you fall apart. Give it to me Penelope! Now!”
On his command, you felt your climax crash over you. A euphoria like no other rattled your bones, rendering you almost speechless. Your inner walls clampled down rhythmically on Erik’s fingers, rippling and pulsing with intense contractions. Then, a flood of your release gushed forward, spraying from your spasming pussy to coat his face and mouth in your sweet nectar. You hear Erik’s groan of approval in between your own squeals and moans.
He moans in delight as he feels your warm essense splashing against his skin, lapping it up greedily and your body continues to shudder and quake below him. Through it all, he keeps his fingers buried inside you curling and stroking your g-spot further prolonging your orgasm.
“Oh my god!” you cry out, your body giving out. Your arms and legs went slack, your orgasm draining you of all your energy, You watched with hazy eyes as he slowly emerges from between your thighs, his face glistening with remnants of your orgasm as he crawls back up your body. A satisfied smirk plays on his lips as he takes in your dazed blissed-out expression.
“Damn baby, watching you come like that, feeling your sweet honey coat my face…” He leans in to capture your lips in a deep, sensual kiss letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “So responsive, so passionate. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you when you’re cumming.”
You moan, strecthing like a feline, “You know my body so well daddy, I’ve never come like that before.”
He chuckles softly, a deep, rumbling sound in his chest as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “Well, we’re just getting started baby. I want to see what else I can make that body do.” His hands begin to roam your curves once more, caressing and kneading your soft flesh as if committing each dip and swell to memory.
“I plan to worship every inch of you, to unravel you until you’re nothing but a trembling pleading mess beneath me.” He nips playfully at your earlobe. You moan contently curling into Erik’s side, your body craving his warmth after he wrung you dry.
“Can I regain feeling in my legs first?” you ask playfully, kissing his neck.
He chuckles, “Keep doing that, all you’ll be feeling is those guts being rearranged.” He presses a tender kiss to your temple, his lips lingering on your skin.
“You can rest for 10 minutes, then I’m getting in that pussy baby. My pretty Penny, you’re amazing,” he murmurs softly, his voice sounding far away as you stared into his eyes. Erik reached for a blanket from somewhere on the floor, draping it across the both of you. He held you close, your head on his chest, legs intertwined, and you drifted off to the sound of his
heartbeat.
Your eyes squint open from the blinding sunlight streaming through the coutain. Stretching your arms above your head, you reach to your side, feeling for Erik. Touching nothing but a cold mattress, your eyes shoot open. As your eyes adjust to the morning light, you take in your surroundings. Your bedroom looked exactly the way you left it, kindle and water bottle on your bedside table along with your phone. Nothing out of place to indicate that anything you just experienced even happened.
“It was a dream?” you question to no one in particular. Sitting up you fling your sheets off your body and swing your legs to the side of the bed. The dampness between your thighs is unmistakable, Well it was definitely a good dream, you thought. You yawned drowsily as you made your way to your ensuite bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.
After using the bathroom and washing your hands, you turn on your shower. Undressing while the bathroom heats up. Undressing you double take looking at yourself in the mirror. Small little fingertip shaped bruises littered your thighs, and a hickie was at the base of your neck.
COMMUNITY MASTERLIST FOR @nahimjustfeelingit-writes
Hey y'all,
I'm sure most everybody knows by now, but tumblr has removed @eye-raq 's main account indefinitely. While she sees about getting the account recovered, i've started a google doc that everyone can add to with links to the reblogs of all her stories.
Because if you didn't know, the fics ARE still available via reblogs on Safari and in online browsers like chrome, edge, etc! In the tumblr mobile app, they are accessible on reblogs as well but only if you follow this navigation:
"notes" in bottom left corner > 🔁 (reblogs) > "View post" on the bottom of a reblog.
I thought it may be helpful if we try to put everything in one place for convenience in the meantime.
Here's what I have so far:
Please DM me or comment for the link. If you see something you can add and can take time out of your day to add it, please do so!! Anything helps. Let's get this going y'all!
We on the same page cause I already started compiling a huge masterlist. I am going to share the link for it so people can just at to it at their own will. I hope I'm not overstepping by sharing, but I would hate for us to be duplicating our efforts!
The GREEN links have been recovered. ORANGE just means I haven't been able to find them. RED means I think the links are broken, due to the "read more" feature. IF YOU FIND A LINK, ADD THE TITLE, AND THEN LINK THE TITLE.
Here is the link: Nahimjustfeelingit-writes masterlist recovery
Unfortunately, I will probably not make the Kinktober deadline. However, I will still be releasing my kinktober themed fics as soon as I finish them. I'm trying my hardest to finish what I started, but life and depression are hitting me hard. This is probably the WORST writing/reading slump I've suffered from in a minute. Writing is hard. Reading is hard. Focusing is hard. My creativity is non-existent. I'm beyond frustrated and disappointed in myself. Sorry in advance.😔
