#half bright and half rain

[kelocitta]

[OFFICIAL WORK] The RW vinyl repress covers I was commissioned for by Videocult!

[honeyxmonkey]

Sarah McCarthy, Daughter of Vameus

[nonbinary-moth]

I hate this fucking job one of the plug sockets near the lights started leaking water (and like. A lot of water, its been very rainy lately) and my manager called his boss about it and u know what he said? If something happens just turn off the lights. This guy would rather us work in the dark than just shut the shop for a day. Wadda hell.

[raeathnos]

.

[worldwright]

just one day when I can get home on time would be great

[dreaming-medium]

Language Barrier

Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

Word Count: 7K

Tags: fluff, first meeting, first kiss, strangers to lovers

Summary: When the power goes out while you’re in an ATM vestibule, you come to realize you’re stuck inside until the police come to open the door. But there’s one problem, you don’t speak a lick of Korean, and the man inside doesn’t seem to speak an ounce of English.

———

A/N: Please note that sentences that are Italicized are meant to be in Korean and sentences that are regular text are in English.

‘How are you?’ - English

‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ - Korean

—————————————————————————

Luck was not on your side today.

It’s not like you’re an unlucky person as a whole, no, that’s not it. Today was just one of those days that when you say ‘How could this get any worse?’, the universe takes it as a challenge.

Perhaps you should’ve just kept your mouth shut after you spilled coffee on your blouse this morning. But, you’ve always been such a ‘glass-half-full’ sort of person that you tried to take every inconvenience in stride. Everyone has their limit, though.

Before you came here on a business trip, you had heard about the Korean Monsoon season.

Everyone and their mother told you about how much it would pour, how it would feel like the skies suddenly opened up. But, you didn’t take anyone’s warning seriously. You would wave them off with a scoff.

“It’s just rain,” you thought. “How bad could it be?”

You’re eating those words now as you run through the streets in your nice, newly-soaked, professional heels. Your slacks are sticking to your legs, making the fabric ten times heavier. With your bag held over your head, you look around frantically for the bank.

It doesn’t help that it’s close to 10 PM and visibility is already horrible at this time. Yes, you should have gone earlier, but you were distracted!

Where is it? Where is it?

There!

You spot the glass doors and practically sprint up to them, grab the handle, and rip the door open.

A giant sigh of relief comes out of your lips as you step inside the tiny vestibule.

The only other man inside the place jumps a bit at your noise. He glances over his shoulder at you, but immediately turns back to what he’s doing at the ATM. You pay him no mind as you shake the rainwater off of your bag.

It’s after hours at the bank, meaning the only thing open and available is one ATM inside the room between the bank itself and the streets of Seoul.

Soft beeping comes from the ATM as the other man presses a few buttons. There’s an umbrella on the floor at his feet.

After brushing the water off your jacket, you bring your bag in front of you and start fishing out your card. Countless items inside your bag are now completely soaked.

Ugh, there goes all those business cards you collected at the meeting. Most of the ink is bleeding off the cardstock. Maybe, if you try really hard, you can make out the phone numbers on the cards.

Is that a 6 or an 8?

Or maybe the email addresses will be easier to understand. Surely, it just their names and their company’s–

There’s a bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a booming clap of thunder at the same time the lights in the ATM vestibule flicker and go out completely.

You fight the yelp that bubbles in your throat. The man in front of you seems to lose the fight against his reactions and lets out a tiny yip.

His shoulders come up and he seems to bristle like a cat.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble, looking up at the lights. It was almost pitch black inside now, save for the tiny emergency lights that kick on on either side of the glowing Exit sign.

The man lets out a grumble and a sigh.

You look over and see that the ATM has completely shut off. Figures.

The storm must’ve triggered some sort of power outage. Great. Now you’ll have to find some other ATM.

Why, oh why, did the restaurant that your boss wanted to take you to tomorrow morning have to be cash only?

Whatever, there should be a bank a few blocks from here.

Your heels click on the tile as you make your way to the door. When you grab the handle and pull, it doesn’t budge.

There’s a beat.

You try again, really putting your back into it this time.

“Am I stupid or what?” you whisper to yourself, trying the other door and pulling equally as hard.

“They’re not going to open,” the man behind you says. “The fail-safe locks probably kicked in once the power went out. It’s a security measure.”

You turn around and look at him with a blank look on your face. “Oh, ah, um… s-sorry, no… no Korean.”

The man blinks at you. “You don’t speak Korean?”

You blink right back at him. “Um…” All you can do is shake your head with wide eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you repeat.

Another series of blinks are exchanged.

“No… Korean?” he asks slowly. His English sounds so unsure.

You nod. “No… no Korean.”

A tiny, exasperated sigh comes from his lips and he looks around, as if anything inside this tiny little room would be able to help him communicate with you. Meanwhile, you turn back to the door and give it another sharp tug to no avail.

“No,” he says firmly, drawing your attention back to him. He motions down to the door handles and then shakes his head.

“No?” you repeat, a bit confused.

“No.”

Honestly, the primitive conversation between the two of you would be somewhat laughable if you didn’t feel frustrated beyond belief.

“Why?” you ask, becoming annoyed. Obviously, he knows something that you don’t.

The man blinks at you and shifts around nervously on his feet. His hands motion around as he tries to conjure up a sentence in English. “N… No. Closed?... Closed.” He nods, saying the word rather confidently.

Yes, you know the door is closed. But, why?

After a second, he sees that whatever he said evidently isn’t good enough, so he points back to the ATM, to the light that is now off due to no power, and then to the locks. You follow his pointing and the cogs in your brain start turning slowly.

“Fail-safe locks,” you state and then finally release the door handles.

“Fail… Fail-safe locks,” he repeats slowly. “Fail-safe locks.”

“Fail-safe locks?” you parrot his Korean back to him and he nods.

A small hum comes from your chest and you take a step back from the door finally. “How long do you think–” you cut yourself off when you look over at him. The man is staring at you, not following a word you’re saying.

Your hand comes up and you brush some wet hair off your forehead and then scratch the back of your head as a nervous tick. There’s no point in even asking the question, he won’t be able to understand anything you’re saying.

If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be a bit annoyed too. But at the same time, he’s already been kinder than most would be in this situation.

He’s locked in an ATM vestibule with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as him– in his own country. He’s been more than kind. Most people would just wave you off and forget trying to communicate at all.

But here he was, talking slowly and making sure you can understand what he’s saying. He’s going so far as to point around the room to make sure you understand.

The man notices you give up and he lets out a tiny sigh, turning to then peer out the glass doors at the streets of Seoul. There’s basically no one out there, everyone has taken shelter from the squall.

“We’ll have to wait until the police come to open the door.” He pats at his pockets, searching for his phone.

Even with how terrible your Korean is, you still pick up on a few words. “Police?” A beat. “Police?”

“Yes,” he answers in English, taking his phone out and tapping the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. The man continues to look through the glass doors, watching all the different cars drive by, none of them police cars.

You decide to turn around, walking around the tiny room.

All of the lights are off except for the emergency lights. They cast a dull glow through the entirety of the vestibule. There's barely enough light to see from one side of the room to the other.

Rain starts hammering against the glass as the man speaks into his phone. “Yes, hi, hello. I am currently trapped with another woman inside the ATM vestibule of Metrobank Seoul… Namdaemunno… Yes, that one.”

Your ears perk up when he mentions the name of the bank and the address. Ah, he must have called the police. His face pulls into a slightly annoyed look, but he doesn’t speak with a hint of it through the phone, at least, not that you’re really able to tell.

The man says a few more words into the phone before he hangs up with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and then down his face in an exasperated fashion before turning to look at you. His mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it and he grimaces even more.

Your own features pull into a sympathetic expression and you look away, slightly embarrassed. Should you have learned more of the language before coming here? Absolutely. But at the same time, you didn’t have much time to prepare once you were told you had to travel here for business.

He shuffles from foot to foot and looks around, shoving his hands in his pockets and desperately trying to remember every English class he took in school.

“Police…” he says slowly, thinking through every word he wants to try and say. “Police are… busy.”

“Busy?”

“Yes. Busy. Busy with… car…” He brings both of his hands together and claps and then makes an explosion noise with his hands.

“A car accident?”

He snaps his fingers and points to you, as if you’re a team during a game of charades.

“Car accident,” he says in Korean.

“Car accident,” you repeat and he nods.

Despite the reality of the situation, you smile. The humor in all of this does not escape you. You decide to try and meet him halfway, even with your butchered pronunciation.

“Police… time… long?” Your head cocks to the side and you point to your watch. He shakes his head and shrugs in exaggerated movements.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. The accident was that bad, huh? No wonder the power went out then, the car must have smashed into electrical lines after that loud clap of thunder. This probably means all of the traffic lights and such are out too.

The police are most likely directing traffic and making sure no one gets injured; two idiots stranded in an ATM vestibule are the least of their concerns. Honestly, you can’t be in a safer place. Well, unless this guy is a murderer, but you haven’t gotten a harsh vibe yet.

You sigh and lean against the wall near the corner across from the ATM. Your body slides down to the floor and you stare straight ahead. It seems like you’re going to be in here for a while then.

The man takes one last look outside the doors before walking in your direction. He leans against the adjacent wall and takes a seat on the floor with you. His shoes almost touch the side of yours. It’s at this time that you let yourself take a moment to really look at him.

He has to be around your age; older than a college graduate but younger than someone settled into their career. Something that definitely doesn’t escape your attention is how… pretty he is. His skin is near perfect and so is his hair. Everything, down to the clothes he’s wearing, is absolutely flawless– and he’s only in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie!

Next to him, especially in your current drowned rat state, you probably look like something worse than a hot mess. You quickly comb your hair off your forehead once more and pull at your soaking wet clothes sticking to your skin.

The man’s lips purse for a moment and he opens his mouth as if to say something, then promptly stops, opting for a grumble of frustration.

After a moment, an idea flickers through your mind and you hold up one finger to him to say ‘one moment’. You reach down into your pocket for your phone and take it out, tapping at a few screens and bringing up the Translate app.

‘What’s your name?’ you type into the phone and it immediately translates it into Korean below it. You turn your phone around and hold it up to him.

The man looks at you, then your phone, and his eyes light up. If you’re not mistaken, you even see a little bit of relief flash over his features. A tiny smirk pulls at one corner of his lips before he looks back at you.

“Minho,” he answers and motions to you.

“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, Minho.” You hold your hand out for a handshake.

Minho looks at your hand and his smirk gets wider before he grabs your hand and shakes it gently. The skin on his palm is so soft. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

After shaking his hand, you bring your phone back up to your face and type another sentence into the translate app.

‘I’m very sorry for not knowing Korean, I’m here on business.’

Minho looks at your phone, reading the statement before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. He types away and then holds it up for you to read.

‘No need to apologize. With my line of work, my English should be better. It’s a very hard language to learn.’

A little laugh huffs from your nose and you nod and type.

‘Try learning Korean.’

Minho laughs with you and his smirk grows into a playful smile. Jesus Christ, this man is gorgeous. He looks down and taps a bit on his phone and then he holds it up to you. With the way his smirk pulls at his lips, it almost reminds you of a devious little cat.

‘I could tell you were a foreigner when you first came into the bank.’

Your eyebrow raises. “Oh, really?”

He’s chuckling when he brings his phone back to type more and then hold it up for you to read.

‘You don’t have an umbrella.’

Laughter leaves your lips when you read that and your head tilts back to rest against the wall. The wetness from your clothes is beginning to seep into your bones. Plus, the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin is starting to become overstimulating.

But, you try and keep it together. You don’t really have another option at the moment.

You type a message back to Minho.

‘People tried to warn me about the Monsoon Season. As you can see, I didn’t listen.’

He reads your message and sucks his teeth with a smirk. Minho shakes his head and motions to the glass doors, as if to say ‘Look!’.

“I know, I know!” you laugh and look outside at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. Puddles have turned into small ravines flowing down the sides of the road. Any car that passes by creates a huge splash as they pass through them.

Every once in a while, the sky will light up and thunder will follow it quickly.

Minho laughs with you. “Next time… you listen.” He nudges your leg with his foot.

You look over at him. “I will, trust me.”

A long look is shared between the two of you. There’s this tiny nagging feeling at the back of your mind, it’s that same feeling you get when you see someone in public that you swear you’ve seen before. Maybe he just has one of those faces?

No, you definitely haven’t met him before. You would remember if he was someone you shook hands with in the last few days. A man that gorgeous would never slip under your radar, you’re certain.

Minho stares back at you, eyes flitting about at your soaking wet hair matting to your skin. It looks like his one hand twitches for a moment and then he shifts in his seat.

Back to the app.

The two of you type away on your phones and hold them up at the same time with the exact same question on them.

‘What do you do for work?’

‘What do you do for work?’

Again, the two of you let out little huffs of laughter and he motions to you as if to tell you to go first.

So you do, you type down on your phone a little answer for him.

‘Right now, I’m only the assistant to a CEO for a huge company. Wherever he goes, I go. I write all his contracts; everything he does goes through me first. I’m more of an administrator than an assistant, though.’

Minho reads your answer carefully and then types out a small response with a tiny crease in between his brows.

‘Why do you say ‘right now’?’

A sad smile spreads on your face as you look down at your phone to type out a response.

‘I studied hard and have a Mathematics degree. But no matter where I apply, they say I don’t have enough experience. Back in America, the job market is absolutely horrible. So, I’m stuck.’

Minho’s eyes scan through your message and a frown pulls at his lips. He looks back up at you, meeting your eyes and then back to your phone before he begins to type his own message.

Your silent communication warms your heart a little bit. The glow from his phone lights up his features and you study him carefully. His teeth poke out from his top lip– it’s absolutely adorable.

He seems to think for a long moment before his thumbs fly over his screen.

Rain is coming down in sheets outside the door, it’s the only other sound inside the room besides the light clicking of the haptics on his phone.

You reach back and once more run your fingers through your hair– it seems to be drying now, but not in a good way. The humidity of the rain is apparent in the way it's starting to frizz up.

Minho turns his phone around after a moment of typing.

‘I’ve heard about how hard it is to get a job in America, I’m very sorry it’s so unfair. For what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing wrong with the job you have now. Hard work is hard work no matter if it's an assistant or a scientist.’

His words strike a chord within your heart, they tug at your chest and at the corner of your lips which twitch into a wistful smile on your face.

“Thank you,” you say to him in Korean, looking directly into his eyes. Minho smiles back at you when he hears it.

“You are welcome,” he answers in English.

His smile seems so warm for a stranger. He looks at you as if you’re an old friend, not like a woman, still soaking wet from the rain, sitting on the floor with him inside an ATM vestibule. He’s so genuine.

After a few seconds of just looking at him, you bring your phone up to type once more.

‘Your turn. What do you do?’

Minho stares at your phone for a long time, seemingly reading the sentence over and over again. His bottom lip pulls between his teeth and he seems to weigh something in his mind.

His brown eyes flick to yours, then back to the phone, then back to you again before he looks down at his phone.

You never realized how much just body language alone can convey.

He types slower, his thumbs not moving as quickly as before. Why does he seem so apprehensive?

Eventually, he turns the phone around.

‘I’m an idol.’

“Oh,” you say softly. Your shoulders shrug a bit and you cock your head to the side. “Like a K-pop idol?”

Minho nods in response. “Stray Kids.”

The name rings a bell, it’s just one you’ve heard floating around for a few months now. You think one of your friends is into them, but you can’t remember. She’s into so many different groups, it’s hard to keep track anymore.

You type in your phone.

‘I’ve heard the name before. Weren’t you guys at the MET Gala?’

With a breathy chuckle, he nods. A smile spreads across your face.

‘Wow, I’m trapped in a room with a celebrity then. You know, people write stories like this.’

Your joke definitely lands because he snorts a huff of laughter as you type on your phone a little bit more after that.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t take pictures and post them all over Twitter or anything. This will just be a funny story for me to tell my friends when I get back home to America.’

“Thank you,” Minho says softly with genuine gratitude in his voice. God, you can’t even imagine what it’s like being an idol. There probably wasn’t a single place he felt safe going to anymore. There are always cameras just waiting to take his picture.

‘When do you go back to America?’

‘In a few days. My boss loves to extend his business trips at the last minute. So, I could be here three more days or seven more days. It’s very hard to pack to come on these trips.’

A bittersweet expression settles on his handsome face.

You think for a long moment before typing away at your phone and showing it to him.

‘Have you ever been to New Jersey? That’s the state I’m from.’

Minho’s lips purse as he thinks for a long few moments. Very slowly, he nods, almost unsure. He types in his phone, then thinks for a moment, then types again.

‘I think we’ve been there twice. Is Newark in New Jersey?’

Excitedly, you nod. “Yes, that’s up in North Jersey!” You’re so excited that you forget to type down on your phone. “Oh!” you say with a laugh, looking back down at your phone.

‘Yes, that’s in the northern part of the state, about an hour or so from my hometown. I grew up in the central region, right on the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get to the beach from my house.’

Minho’s smile widens and he looks at you with a slightly envious look in his eyes. You giggle in response.

‘Two other members love the beach, but they’re from Australia.’

‘Australian beaches are probably not that different from American beaches. But I’ve never been to Australia. Have you?’

Minho nods and you see him close his translation app and switch over to his camera roll. His fingers quickly begin scrolling up through the countless amount of photos he has on his phone.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, you look away from his phone and out the doors in the vestibule once more. Not a single soul is walking– or running– along the sidewalks anymore.

Due to the power outage, there’s not even street lights illuminating in the puddles, it’s almost eerie looking. But, surprisingly, you don’t feel uneasy at all. Especially not with Minho sitting at your side.

Said man hums to get your attention, shuffling closer to you, and you look down at his phone. The picture is absolutely gorgeous.

It’s a photo of the beach, you’re assuming in Australia. The red sun is peeking above the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful wash of reds, pinks, and purples, all of the colors melting into one another. The clouds are wispy and glow in the morning sun.

The ocean seems so beautifully blue, even the foam at the crash of the waves is beautiful.

In front of the ocean is a gaggle of boys, it looks like there’s about seven of them. Each of them have bright, beautiful smiles on their faces reaching their eyes.

You’ve never been able to feel joy radiating from a photo like this, it seems to be contagious since you find a smile pulling at your own lips.

“This photo is beautiful,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of it.

Minho hums, maybe he understood what you said. His thumb moves and he scrolls to the next picture where two of the boys have taken one of the others by his legs and arms and seem to be pretending to toss him into the surf.

A soft giggle comes from your lips and you find yourself leaning towards him a bit to get a better look at the photo. Truly, you didn’t even notice your shoulders brushing against each other, and by his lack of reaction, it seems Minho didn’t either.

“Friends?” you ask him in your choppy Korean.

Minho looks over at you, his face closer to you than before. His eyes widen a bit at your proximity, but he doesn’t back up at all.

“Family,” he corrects you in his soft English.

An even warmer feeling spreads through your chest and you look back down at the photo. They must be his band members, but they just look so much closer than that. It reminds you of all of your friends back home.

Before you can even think twice, you’re opening your own camera roll, scrolling through an endless sea of memories before finding one specific morning you woke up to go watch the sunrise on the beach.

A tiny, awe-struck noise comes from Minho when he looks down at it.

“Sunrise,” you say and then think for a moment. You’re not sure of the Korean you want to say. “Favorite… time.”

He’s so patient when you speak, it absolutely melts your heart. There’s a different air about his softness with you too. He’s not treating you like a child just learning how to speak, no, he’s just being… nice. He’s being sweet and genuine and it speaks volumes about his character.

“Sunrise,” he says in Korean.

“Sunrise,” you repeat, looking up at him. His eyes were already trained on your face by the time you looked up. A tiny dusting of pink covers your cheeks. How long has he been looking at you?

A happy smile spreads over his lips, the edges curl up playfully. He nods. “Sunrise. Sunrise.”

“Sunrise.” Your voice says softly once more before looking back down at your phone.

Swiping through a few more pictures, you show him the boardwalk that runs down the beaches by your house. Everything from shops, to amusement park rides, to lemonade and ice cream stands litter the entirety of the shore.

He points down at the ferris wheel and shakes his head. “No,” he says simply.

“No?” you ask with a laugh. “Why not?”

“No… no high,” he shakes his head and motions his hands around to emphasize his point.

“Best picture,” you giggle holding your hand up in the air to emphasize the height aspect, then you’re swiping to the next picture taken from the top of the ferris wheel. This time, it was sunset. “Sunset.”

“Sunset.” A pause. “My… My… favorite time.”

A soft hum bubbles up in your throat. He loves sunset whereas you love sunrise. How cute.

“Sunset is beautiful,” you say slowly. Your eyes are still on your phone when you swipe to another photo.

“Beautiful,” Minho whispers softly.

Humming, you nod. “Yes, beautiful.”

A soft puff of air comes out of his nose and fans out over your cheek. When did he get this close? You look up at him and almost bump his nose with yours.

Minho’s head flinches back a bit at your sudden movement, but he makes no move to get further away from you.

He sighs softly, his eyes flitting all over your face, taking in every one of your features. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Your eyes widen, that pink blush making its way back to your face. You can’t even help the tiny, giddy giggle that bubbles in your throat. You look down shyly, biting your bottom lip.

Tender, gentle fingers lift your chin back up. Truly, you didn’t notice how cold your skin was until his warm touch spread on your skin.

Is this really happening?

A shiver races down your spine and a soft shudder comes out of your lips. Minho’s eyes look down at your lips and then down at your arm where goosebumps begin to raise.

He pulls away gently, making your brows furrow. Did you do something wrong? Maybe you misread his–

He’s shrugging off his hoodie.

Oh, he thinks you're cold.

Before you can even think to tell him you’re okay, he’s pulling your shoulder forward a bit so he can drape it over your back, bundling you up in such a pleasant, soft warmth. With small, fussy movements, he’s closing the hoodie around your body.

Perhaps you didn’t even notice how cold you were until you were suddenly surrounded in a warmth that can be compared to the fuzziest blanket you own. Not to mention the absolutely delightful scent that wafts upwards into your nose from the fabric.

It’s such a clean, cozy, calming scent. It’s like you buried your nose into the Mahogany Teakwood candle at Bath and Body Works.

Your eyes stay trained on his face while he bundles you up tightly. His hands gently grab your arms and rub up and down a few times to create even more warmth.

“Better,” he murmurs, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

How is it that a stranger has wormed himself into your heart like this? His tender gaze makes your soul feel calm, like those pictures of the morning surf under the sunrise.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to him. Your hands come up to grab at the hoodie, curling into the fabric.

Minho smiles back at you, you can see how his smile grows as he watches you relax into his clothing. There’s no space between your shoulders as you rest against adjacent walls, your two bodies have melted into the corner.

There’s a clap of thunder outside, but neither of you move. Your feet shuffle on the floor as you bring your knees closer to your chest. His legs adjust around yours, feeding them under your bent knees and tangling your limbs up further.

It’s so hard to break Minho’s eye contact, but you do it slowly, looking down at your phone and opening up the translate app once more. His soft breathing hits your cheek with every exhale.

‘You’re too nice to a stranger.’

Minho hums, almost in agreement. He picks up his phone and types back.

‘I’m usually not.’

You read the statement and then look at him, your head cocked to the side. Your brows furrow in confusion, but he types more before you can even ask another question.

‘I don’t know why I feel drawn to you.’

The text looks right back at you. Your heart flutters in your chest and you know that your cheeks get redder and redder by the second. Still, you can’t contain the giddy laugh that makes its way past your lips.

You bite the inside of your cheek to try and hide the smile, but it only makes Minho smile wider. His hand slowly comes up towards your cheek. Right before he’s able to make contact, he stops, hovering over your skin and gazing into your eyes.

A silent question is asked through his eyes. It’s a language that you don’t need any sort of app for. An answer is communicated right back.

Soft, tender warmth spreads over your cheek, radiating all throughout your body in the most gentle glow. His thumb caresses over your cheek bone, swiping gentle strokes back and forth.

You feel the same as him, that’s the strange part. There’s something so alluring about him that you just can’t put your finger on it. He’s pulling you in like a magnet and you don’t even want to fight against it.

There’s so many words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you know that each and every one of them would fall on deaf ears. Nothing that you can say in the moment would make sense to him.

Exhales are shared and mingled together in the minimal space between your faces,

“Beautiful,” he whispers for your ears only. Not like there’s anyone else to hear it except the ATM sitting dormant in the corner of the vestibule. Not even the mice in the walls would have been able to hear his murmur.

Love at first sight was something you always gawked and scoffed at. You always thought that it was such a Hallmark invention, that there was no way you would be able to just look at someone once and immediately fall head over heels for them.

But here you were, sitting on a dirty floor, feeling your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. Letting your face be cradled by a man you didn’t know two hours ago. By the man who patiently worked with you to communicate.

How is this even possible?

You can count on one hand the amount of things you know about one another.

Minho, who is a famous idol in Korea, who loves sunset and hates heights, who has the most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Minho, who did whatever he could just to talk to you when he could have just as easily sat in silence on the other side of the vestibule.

His hand slowly drags down your cheek, each finger gliding down your skin towards your jawline to lift under your chin.

Another silent question passes through both of you in the one language you seem to both be fluent in.

Your eyes flick down to his lips and he hears you loud and clear.

Minho leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch. But, despite how soft the kiss is, heat spreads through your body in a grand wave, rushing through your fingertips and into your toes.

The first press is long and sweet, the two of you simply melting into the sensation of being locked together.

He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes gazing down at your lips before he swoops in again, this time his movements a bit quicker.

His hand returns to your cheek, guiding your head to tilt to the side to gain better access to your lips.

A soft sigh leaves your nose and your own hand travels up to grab at his shirt gently, just needing to hold onto him in any way possible.

Minho responds to your sigh, his lips moving a bit faster against yours. Both of your lips part and close, moving like mirror images of one another. Every few kisses, your noses brush against one another, but it doesn’t deter you from your actions at all.

Slowly, your hand travels from his shirt up to his neck, running up the side of his flushed skin. He feels feverish to the touch and it only spurs you on to keep moving. At the contact on his own body, Minho lets out a tiny grunt against your lips, his kisses stutter for a moment but he’s back to kissing you after just a moment.

Up, up, up, your hand travels over his moving jaw, to his cheek, then moving back to thread in his soft, brown trusses of hair. God, everything about him is just so perfect. It’s like you’re combing your fingers through the softest of cotton.

His kisses are getting deeper, little sighs come from both of your mouths as the passion continues on. Minho’s body turns towards yours a bit more, his knees canting up and almost forcing your legs onto his lap.

Tentatively, you feel his tongue poke out from between his lips, licking gently at your lower lip. You don’t even hesitate to give him access to your mouth. A gentle moan claws its way up your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth.

The hand on your cheek grips you a bit tighter, holding your face to his– as if you would want to try and move away from Minho and his addicting kisses.

“I just can’t help it,” he whispers in Korean against your spit, soaked lips before capturing them once more. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

All you catch is your name and it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t even need to know what else he said, his tone says it all. The way it comes out in a breathy exhale is enough to send your mind reeling.

“Please,” you murmur into his mouth before he presses his lips to yours once more with the same amount of passion and need in his actions.

More and more rain hits the glass doors, becoming the only sound that can be heard in the room except for your shared exhales, pants, and breathy moans.

Slowly, the kisses begin to calm down. Minho pulls away for a moment to take a long breath. His thumb moves to brush against your lower lip like a butterfly landing on a flower.

His eyes open just a crack, gazing down at your mouth with a hazy look in his eye. As he slowly catches his breath, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing along the heated skin on your face.

“Forgive me, I didn’t do things in order,” he whispers. “I should’ve taken you out first.”

Your eyes open and you look at him in confusion. “Hm?”

His jaw clenches before he swallows and he takes another long moment to look over your face, his features soft and welcoming.

There’s some movement as his other hand blindly pats around his lap for his phone. He can’t physically tear himself away from you long enough to even look down.

Another tiny laugh comes from your lips.

Your fingers move out of his hair to come around and gently run over his features, brushing against his jawline, to then trace up to his lips and up the length of his nose, memorizing each and every detail.

Minho melts into your touch, his face moving closer to your touch, seeking you out.

His hand finally finds his phone and he grabs it blindly, flipping it around in his lap and tearing his gaze away from your face to glance down at it.

Thumbs are flying across the screen to type at his translate app. He’s typing so quickly on his phone that you can't help but laugh a bit.

Before he’s able to turn the phone around, there are a few sharp knocks against the glass of the vestibule. The two of you practically jump out of your skin and your heads whip over to the doors.

Red and blue lights are flashing outside and it looks like two police officers are standing outside, peering in at you both. They wave when they see they’ve caught your attention.

Minho looks at the police officers, then to you, then back to the officers, and then back to you once more. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he tries to form a few words but you’re untangling your limbs from one another.

In a moment, you’re both on your feet as the officers work on unlocking the doors from the outside.

Minho gently grabs at your arm and you look down where he’s touching and your heart sinks a little. His eyes look a little questioning and desperate.

“Oh,” you say sadly. You shrug off his jacket, and hand it back to him. Minho’s eyebrows pull together and his lips part. He looks down at the jacket and then up at you.

“No,” he says firmly.

“Are you two alright?” The police officer calls inside in Korean.

“We’re okay,” Minho responds without breaking eye contact with you. He puts a hand on his jacket still dangling over your arm and pushes it back towards you.

“Minho?” you ask, looking at him and then at the officer approaching you both.

“We apologize for the delay, but we knew you two were safe, so we had to prioritize,” the officer says.

You blink at him blankly for a moment before then looking back at Minho.

“She’s a foreigner,” he says to the officer, finally looking away from you. “She doesn’t know Korean.”

“Ah,” the officer responds. “My apologies. You can tell her that she’s free to go.” He nods at the two of you and motions towards the door. You take his hint and slowly begin follow him.

Once again, Minho tugs on your arm and you pause, turning around to look at him. He’s holding his phone up to your face with a pleading look in his eye.

‘Can I please buy you a drink?’

A wide smile spreads across your cheeks and you can’t deny the relief that you feel inside your chest. The moment your lips twitch upwards, Minho immediately mirrors it.

“Yes,” you respond. “I love to go.”

He chuckles at your choppy Korean once more before taking his jacket out of your hands and wrapping you inside it once more. This time, he grabs the hood and pulls it up over your head.

With a satisfied hum, he nods and laces your fingers together.

“Come,” he says confidently.

“Lead way.”

[reasonsforhope]

As relentless rains pounded LA, the city’s “sponge” infrastructure helped gather 8.6 billion gallons of water—enough to sustain over 100,000 households for a year.

Earlier this month, the future fell on Los Angeles. A long band of moisture in the sky, known as an atmospheric river, dumped 9 inches of rain on the city over three days—over half of what the city typically gets in a year. It’s the kind of extreme rainfall that’ll get ever more extreme as the planet warms.

The city’s water managers, though, were ready and waiting. Like other urban areas around the world, in recent years LA has been transforming into a “sponge city,” replacing impermeable surfaces, like concrete, with permeable ones, like dirt and plants. It has also built out “spreading grounds,” where water accumulates and soaks into the earth.

With traditional dams and all that newfangled spongy infrastructure, between February 4 and 7 the metropolis captured 8.6 billion gallons of stormwater, enough to provide water to 106,000 households for a year. For the rainy season in total, LA has accumulated 14.7 billion gallons.

Long reliant on snowmelt and river water piped in from afar, LA is on a quest to produce as much water as it can locally. “There's going to be a lot more rain and a lot less snow, which is going to alter the way we capture snowmelt and the aqueduct water,” says Art Castro, manager of watershed management at the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power. “Dams and spreading grounds are the workhorses of local stormwater capture for either flood protection or water supply.”

Centuries of urban-planning dogma dictates using gutters, sewers, and other infrastructure to funnel rainwater out of a metropolis as quickly as possible to prevent flooding. Given the increasingly catastrophic urban flooding seen around the world, though, that clearly isn’t working anymore, so now planners are finding clever ways to capture stormwater, treating it as an asset instead of a liability. “The problem of urban hydrology is caused by a thousand small cuts,” says Michael Kiparsky, director of the Wheeler Water Institute at UC Berkeley. “No one driveway or roof in and of itself causes massive alteration of the hydrologic cycle. But combine millions of them in one area and it does. Maybe we can solve that problem with a thousand Band-Aids.”

Or in this case, sponges. The trick to making a city more absorbent is to add more gardens and other green spaces that allow water to percolate into underlying aquifers—porous subterranean materials that can hold water—which a city can then draw from in times of need. Engineers are also greening up medians and roadside areas to soak up the water that’d normally rush off streets, into sewers, and eventually out to sea...

To exploit all that free water falling from the sky, the LADWP has carved out big patches of brown in the concrete jungle. Stormwater is piped into these spreading grounds and accumulates in dirt basins. That allows it to slowly soak into the underlying aquifer, which acts as a sort of natural underground tank that can hold 28 billion gallons of water.

During a storm, the city is also gathering water in dams, some of which it diverts into the spreading grounds. “After the storm comes by, and it's a bright sunny day, you’ll still see water being released into a channel and diverted into the spreading grounds,” says Castro. That way, water moves from a reservoir where it’s exposed to sunlight and evaporation, into an aquifer where it’s banked safely underground.

On a smaller scale, LADWP has been experimenting with turning parks into mini spreading grounds, diverting stormwater there to soak into subterranean cisterns or chambers. It’s also deploying green spaces along roadways, which have the additional benefit of mitigating flooding in a neighborhood: The less concrete and the more dirt and plants, the more the built environment can soak up stormwater like the actual environment naturally does.

As an added benefit, deploying more of these green spaces, along with urban gardens, improves the mental health of residents. Plants here also “sweat,” cooling the area and beating back the urban heat island effect—the tendency for concrete to absorb solar energy and slowly release it at night. By reducing summer temperatures, you improve the physical health of residents. “The more trees, the more shade, the less heat island effect,” says Castro. “Sometimes when it’s 90 degrees in the middle of summer, it could get up to 110 underneath a bus stop.”

LA’s far from alone in going spongy. Pittsburgh is also deploying more rain gardens, and where they absolutely must have a hard surface—sidewalks, parking lots, etc.—they’re using special concrete bricks that allow water to seep through. And a growing number of municipalities are scrutinizing properties and charging owners fees if they have excessive impermeable surfaces like pavement, thus incentivizing the switch to permeable surfaces like plots of native plants or urban gardens for producing more food locally.

So the old way of stormwater management isn’t just increasingly dangerous and ineffective as the planet warms and storms get more intense—it stands in the way of a more beautiful, less sweltering, more sustainable urban landscape. LA, of all places, is showing the world there’s a better way.

-via Wired, February 19, 2024

[adiosterror]

PPLLEEEAAASSEEE I MADE A WHOLE POST ABOUT THIS!!! I MADE THAT ESSAY WITH MY BARE HANDS AND A HEART FULL OF LOVE!!

LOWAS! LOWAS KEEP FIGHTING!!! DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU YOU'RE NOT BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!

actually I think I will be doing it for the kids’ planets because it’s my blog

Ignore anything about the quests, characters, or whatever else. ONLY vote based on which planet looks the prettiest.

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Dracula (1931).

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Runtime: 1.8k.

TW: Implied Non/Con, Obsessive Behavior, Threats of Physical Violence, Slight Gore, and Mentions of Death.

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

You could feel his eyes burning into you from the other side of the abruptly-too-short table, the chill of the marble slab where it threatened to press into your midriff, but you did your best to ignore both. The table had already been set by the time you were called down to the dining room, a small army of silver platters arranged neatly in the space between you and him. You hadn’t eaten since the night before, but you weren’t hungry. Even if you had been, it was hard to imagine forcing yourself to choke down anything aside from your own anxiety. You were tempted to try your luck with the generously poured glass of wine to your left, but to drink it, you’d have to reach for it, and to reach for it, you’d have to lift your hands from where they were balled in your lap and you couldn’t do that because your hands wouldn’t stop fucking shak—

“Is the meal not to your tastes, dear?”

“It’s perfect,” you responded immediately, beaming. You grabbed the wine glass before you could hesitate, drinking as much as you could stand to. Chrollo’s ever-present grin had taken on a contented lull by the time you set it down. “Remind me to thank the chef before I leave. That is, if I ever actually manage to catch him.” And then, with a forced laugh, “That is, if this storm ever lets up long enough for me to get out of here.”

As if on cue, thunder clapped outside, followed shortly by a bolt of lightning bright enough to cast the dimly light dining room in a vibrant silver haze. You shrunk into your seat, but Chrollo’s dark eyes only seemed to brighten. “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t run into a member of my staff, yet. It’s been… how long? Four days?” Six. Come midnight, you’d be celebrating your week-long anniversary. “I hope you don’t think I’m keeping anyone away from you deliberately. Not that I’d mind keeping you to myself.”

It took everything you had to smile rather than cringe, to laugh rather than bury your face in your hands and scream. A day ago, you would’ve found your host’s nonchalance charming, but it was hard to find someone charming when the thought of meeting his eyes made you feel physically sick. It was hard to believe you’d been so thankful when you first turned-up on the doorstep of his dark, empty countryside mansion, when you realized you wouldn’t be at the mercy of an ancient, self-isolating millionaire but a man around you own age who, as far as you could tell, was as flustered to see you as you were to need his help. You explained that your car broke down about half a mile down the road, and he invited you to spend the night before calling for help at a more reasonable hour. The typhoon had rolled in not long before sunrise, and, well…

Again, thunder crashed and rain pelted the mansion from all directions. This time, you flinched into your seat before you could stop yourself.

It was your own fault, honestly. It’s not like there weren’t signs that something was wrong. Chrollo was charming, but he was off-putting, too. He seemed to treat the concept of personal space as more of a suggestion as a rule, whether that meant seeking you out in the tightest corner of the mansion’s sprawling library just to share a sofa truly meant for, at most, one person or letting himself into your room at night as if he couldn’t tell the difference between two in the afternoon and two in the morning. He claimed to have a full staff, and yet, you’d never run into any maids, butlers or cooks – never saw anyone who wasn’t Chrollo. His clothes always seemed to be either strange or ill-fitting, like he was wearing items from someone else’s closet, and more damningly, he didn’t seem at all suspicious of you, the stranger he’d allowed to stay in his home for nearly a week, now. No offense was particularly jarring, but it should’ve added up. You should’ve noticed sooner.

The only thing you could do, you figured, was bid your time and sneak out in the early hours of the morning. The landlines were down and you didn’t have cell reception, but the next house couldn’t be that far away, and you doubted Chrollo would follow you into the storm. Or, you hoped he wouldn’t, at least. You couldn’t really do much more than that.

“So,” Chrollo went on, and you made a point of nodding and smiling like he’d just said the smartest thing you’d ever heard, “When did you find the bodies?”

Immediately, your expression fell. A second later, you noticed that your hands had stopped shaking, but only because you’d lost the ability to move entirely.

When you finally regained the will to speak, it was all you could do to spit out something pathetically noncommittal. “...I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

“Don’t be shy. I promise, I’m not mad, just curious.” He paused, letting his eyes bore into you. “You left the door unlocked.”

Ah.

The basement door, to be more specific. Calling what you’d found ‘bodies’ might’ve been a little generous, too. What little had been left of each corpse was already so badly deteriorated that it would’ve been impossible to tell which detached hand might’ve belonged to what disembodied torso. That was probably your fault, too. If you’d known to be wary of Chrollo, you would’ve known better than to follow him into the one place he’d asked you not to go, the one place he seemed to always disappear to when he wasn’t breathing down your neck.

“This morning,” you admitted. “I was bored and looking for you. Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing that it took me this long to realize you were a…”

You trailed off, but Chrollo was more than happy to finish in your stead. “A member of the Phantom Troupe?”

This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from buckling – your mouth falling open as you stared at him, wide-eyed. “Oh my god,” And then, after burying your face in your hands, “I thought you were a fucking vampire, you goth prick.”

That was enough to earn an airy chuckle from Chrollo, any condescension hidden well underneath wry amusement. While you tried to recover, he went on. “I suppose I don’t have to tell you that I don’t actually live here. In truth, I only arrived a few hours before you did – long enough to dispose of the residents and staff, even if getting rid of their remains has been an…” For once, his eyes shifted away from you, skirting to the left. “An ongoing process.”

With a shallow sigh, he pushed himself to his feet rounding the table and falling into the chair closest to you. Dinner, if he’d ever had any interest in it at all, was thoroughly forgotten as he propped an arm on the edge and rested his chin on his knuckles. “I hope you’ll forgive me for not being more upfront. In a line of work like mine, it’s so rare to find an opportunity to play house.”

So, he was a thief. No, it was more than that – he was a world-class thief, with worse crimes under his belt than a handful of homicides and the wrongful imprisonment of one confused civilian. God. This was bad. You should’ve left earlier – as soon as you found the bodies. You should’ve never gotten out of your car at all.

Slowly, you straightened your back, keeping your arms crossed as you glared half-heartedly. “Are you going to let me leave?”

He hummed, drumming his fingers against his jaw. “Now, why would I go and do something like that?”

Your heart sank in your chest. “You’re going to kill me, then?”

“Now you’re just being hurtful.” It was uncanny, how little his demeanor changed prior and post to his confession. If anything, he seemed even more smug – like he was basking in your apparent terror. “As if I could be so wasteful. Besides, I was under the impression that you’ve been enjoying out time together.”

“And I was under the impression that you weren’t a serial killer!” You threw up your hands, agitation quickly overshadowing the worst of your nerves. “Things can change!”

“I suppose they can.” He was so frustratingly calm. If the memory of his dissected victims wasn’t burnt so deeply into your mind, you would’ve rolled your eyes. “And eventually, things will. You don’t think I plan to keep you trapped in this estate forever, do you?”

Rather than dwell on the implication, you moved on swiftly. “If you’re not going to hurt me, you can’t stop me from leaving. The storm can’t be more dangerous than spending another night with you.”

Somehow, his smile only seemed to grow that much wider. “Did you know that the majority of deaths related to natural disasters are from delayed attempts to evacuate? There are all sorts of threats – flooding, debris, sinkholes…” He brightened with each listed hazard, and you tried (and failed) not to picture yourself drowning in muddy rainwater. “Oh, and sickness, of course. Spend enough time in the rain and it won’t matter if you eventually find shelter – you’ll die of pneumonia in a matter of weeks.”

“You don’t know—”

“And, for the record, I said I wasn’t planning to kill you. You never asked about anything else.” He let out a dry chuckle. “I’m sorry, but I sure you understand. It’d just be irresponsible to promise that I’ll never have to, say, dislocate your ankle to stop you from making a very brash, very unadvisable decision.”

“Like calling the cops.”

“Like trying to go outside in a very bad, very easily deadly storm,” he clarified. “You can contact anyone you’d like, but please, try to be considerate. I’m going to run out of room in the basement eventually.”

This time, when you melted into your seat, it wasn’t out of reflex or anxiety, but in a deliberate effort to put that much more distance between him and you. “I… I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to die,” you admitted, taking longer than it should’ve to say something so glaringly obvious. “Tell me what I have to do to make that not happen.”

Yet another clap of thunder. This time, the lightning didn’t so much as tint his soulless eyes. “Straight to the point, as always. I like that about you.”

For the first time, he seemed to hesitate – a pink haze spreading over his pale cheeks as he reached out and laid his hand, almost gingerly, over yours. His trepidation was short-lived, though, only lasting up until the second you tried to pull away and he had an excuse to intertwine his fingers with yours, his grip tight enough to bruise.

“Why don’t we get to bed, darling?”  

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his cousins bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.

Part Four

The burn in his muscles was a sign that he was pushing his limits, effectively working his muscles, and making the progress he set a goal for. The release of endorphins was a positive feeling Terry felt throughout. The sweat is a dark and growing map down the front of his tank top, turning it from a bright grey toward smokey. His skin is as wet as if he’d just pulled himself from a pool, yet there is no water around, only the dank elite gym he occupied that Thursday morning.

Salty droplets flowed down Terry’s face like soft summer rain, dripping onto the gym floor as he sits to regain his breath. Down his back is a dark stripe amid the light gray colour of his sleeveless top, a spreading map of perspiration. Terry blinked his wet lashes before adjusting his AirPod Pro Max headset over his ears. He’d pushed through his last set and now he needed a shower.

Pushing himself up, Terry gathered his things and headed for the showers. Once there, he found his locker and grabbed all the things he needed for a brisk shower. Within a changing room, he removed the drenched tank top from his upper body and the thigh–hugging black gym shorts on his lower half. Shoes and socks off, Terry secured a towel around his waist and proceeded towards the showers.

Warm water cascaded down his body, rolling between the cut muscles of his abdomen and the contours of his back muscles. Soap suds slicked his copper skin the more he squeezed his body sponge to release more coconut and vanilla scented soap. The soft sponge smoothed down his six pack, past his pubic hair, and down the length of his semi–hard dick.

He finished up after cleansing his face and with the towel around his waist, he headed back to his dressing room. Today he had a French class to teach on campus. Something he’d picked up last minute. Terry checked the time on his Apple Watch after dressing in a pair of khakis with a simple white button down. He decided to take his new baby for a spin: Oxblood Red Dodge Charger.

Inside, Terry checked himself out in the mirror above his driver’s side. His fingers smoothed over his trimmed mustache and goatee, smoothing in the Maracuja Oil and Shea Butter moisturizer he liked to use. His engine roared to life, and Terry rolled off the lot and straight for LSU. It took him ten minutes to arrive and he secured himself a spot within the staff parking lot. Briefcase in hand, Terry switched on his Professor demeanor and headed inside towards his classroom.

When he arrived, students were waiting along the walls and chitchatting. Terry greeted them all before opening the door to give them access. He waited until the last person entered before shutting the door behind them.

“Bonjour, comment va tout le monde ?”

The class responded.

“Est-ce que tout le monde est prêt pour le quiz ?

The students had a quiz every Thursday to test their skills from Tuesday’s practice.

“Très bien. euh... ouvrez les ordinateurs portables qui vous sont assignés et trouvez le quiz sur le tableau de bord. vous avez quinze minutes…”

Terry settled behind his desk and used that opportunity to look over his busy schedule. He had to pick up his tux later for Mike’s wedding. Stylus hovering over his iPad, Friday put a smile on his face. He couldn’t wait. The earth needed to rotate faster on its axis. After the time was up, they went over the answers and fell straight into lecture.

It was the type of heat outside that’s wet and heavy. Terry could feel the water in the air, in his lungs almost. The sensation of sweat trickling down his spine tickled and he reached around to rub the spot with his thumb.

As he was putting away his briefcase, Terry could feel an incoming call buzzing through the pocket of his khakis. He dug his long fingers between the snug fabric and as he retrieved his phone his eyes focused on his mother’s contact. Worry seeped within his pours.

“Mama, everything okay?”

“Hey, TJ. why everytime I call you, you think something is wrong?”

Terry waited until his mother’s laughter died down before speaking, a smirk teasing his full lips, “Last two times you called, it was bad news. And you called me back to back.”

“Well, this time it’s me calling to check on you. Are you at work?”

“I’m leaving. Had a short day today. I’m doin’ good. Been busy, goin’ to pick up my tux right now. How you and Pop?”

“Good, baby. He’s out right now to Home Depot. You know he’s still tryna build that shed, right?”

Terry chuckled, settling into his drivers seat.

“Wish I could help.”

“He’s got some help, some buddies up here.”

“Good thing,” Terry cranked his AC, “Tell him to take it easy now. We don’t need a repeat of last time.”

“I know, I know. I’m keeping an eye on ‘em. I love you, TJ. I’m not gonna hold ya up. Call me when you get settled, okay?”

“I promise I will. Tell the boss I said I love him.”

“Will do, baby.”

——

That Thursday evening, Aaliyah lit some candles in her living room after enjoying a quick meal of seafood boil ramen. It wasn’t the healthiest, but she’d been craving it for a week straight. Curled up on her couch in her birthday suit, she enjoyed a glass of red wine while watching YouTube from her flat screen. It was a video about how a girl hexed her best-friend. The lengths that people go when they’re envious and jealous of others success had Aaliyah tripping.

Buzz Buzz

Aaliyah checked her phone. Terry texted her a photo of himself laid up on the couch with his glasses on and his cat, Orion, curled up in his lap. He looked so cute with his big, toothy grin. She could see his entire upper body, the teasing display of honeyed skin across his neck, shoulders, arms and abs beneath the orange hue of his living room mood lights set something off in Aaliyah.

Oh…to see all of that in person. To press her nose against his chest and drag her tongue over those nipples…count the moles that littered his skin…feel the firmness of his muscles and the softness of his blemish–free skin. She wished she were lying in his lap. Her cheek against his growing erection. Her mouth watering to taste. Ever since she straddled her Professor in his truck, Aaliyah couldn’t stop thinking about him. She couldn’t control the way her clit ached deliciously whenever she recalled the way his thick bulge created the perfect friction on her clit.

His nose pressed against her neck sent chills down her spine. His big arms squeezed her tight and she craved the sensation of being glued to him in such a cramped position. Aaliyah clenched her thighs tightly and bit down hard on her bottom lip to contain herself of moaning. Ignoring the way her pussy throbbed with an insatiable need for him, she replied with heart eyes.

Aaliyah: 😍😍😍

Terry: I miss you

She found herself blushing into her hand.

Aaliyah: I miss you too.

Terry: Can I call you? Been awhile since I heard that cute little voice.

Aaliyah sat up and pondered. She definitely wanted to talk to him, but the wine was shooting straight to her pussy and she knew what calling him would do.

Fuck it! Stop holding off! Get yours…

Aaliyah: Sure 😌

Stomach muscles tight with anxiousness, Aaliyah waited. Terry’s call came through seconds later.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Aaliyah blushed hard.

“Hi,” She traced her hip with an almond–shaped nail painted a pinky–nude, “How’s my favorite professor?”

“Better now that I’m talking to my favorite student. You doin’ okay?”

“A lot better. You have that effect on me.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“As long as I can put a smile on that face…I hate to see you sad and crying…”

Aaliyah rolled over onto her back on the couch and beamed. The only crying she wanted was from that dick.

“You smiling now, ain’t you?”

“Maybe,” Aaliyah looked up at her ceiling.

“You are. I can hear it in your voice…”

His voice through the phone with its deep baritone and smoothness had such a hold on her. How was it that this man could have such an effect on her every being without even trying? She told herself she would never be this spung off a man again and now look. Giddy.

“Okay, I am…”

“I already knew that, I just wanted you to admit it.”

“Whatever,” Aaliyah rolled her eyes, “Where are you taking me tomorrow?”

“Didn’t I tell you it’s a surprise? You can’t always get your way, baby.”

“It better be worth my while.”

Terry chuckled, “Or what?”

“It’s gonna be a problem.”

“Aaliyah…”

His laughter on the other end of the line prompted her to giggle.

“Aight now, girl…don’t talk tough through the phone.”

“Do what I want and maybe I won’t.”

“Like I said, it’s a surprise. Settle down before I make you.”

“How will you do that exactly?”

“You want me to show you?”

Aaliyah twirled a strand of hair while nibbling on her lip.

“Aaliyah?”

“Show me when?”

“Tonight.”

“Can’t wait until tomorrow?” Aaliyah asked with a laugh.

“I’m afraid I can’t…feelin’ too heavy right now…”

Heavy? Aaliyah clenched her thighs. He was definitely heavy alright.

“Where you feelin’ heavy, Terry?”

He chuckled slightly and then a slight pause followed.

“…This dick you was sittin’ on.”

Aaliyah peeled the phone away from her ear and her eyes rolled shut. That glint in his voice…ooooh…this man…

“Mmm, It was heavy…”

“It is right now…right…now…”

Aaliyah liked where this was going. She placed a nail between her teeth, horniness reaching a fever pitch. Fuck it. She wanted this man. She’d played around for too long. It was time to get acquainted with that fat dick in all the possible ways. In her mouth, in her pussy, in her ass, dragging across her face…

“When I came back home Wednesday…I played with my pussy. That dick had me thinking about how good it’ll feel to stretch me out.”

“Fuck…”

Aaliyah could hear him in the background shuffling. She pictured he was freeing that heavy dick right now, gripping it up tight and swinging it back and forth. Ugh.

“I’ve never felt a print that heavy on me before…”

“Damn shame, baby…that pussy cat tight so I know I gotta fit all of me in there real slow. You like it slow?”

“Mhm,” Aaliyah tweaked her left nipple, “I can feel it all better that way.”

“Me too. Just watch my tip push in…keep them legs open while I sink deeper…”

The heat index in that living room was overwhelmingly high. Aaliyah molded her back into the cushion beneath her and spread her thighs. She could hear her pussy lips spread. A creamy sound. Staring down the valley of her gorgeous body, she rubbed two fingers between her folds to gather all that wetness on her clit.

——

Terry was seated on one of his accent chairs. Shrouded in an orange glow, he lazily twisted his stiffness and occasionally curled his fingers around his hefty sack, rolling it. Pre-cum connected to his briefs and it wouldn’t stop flowing the more that sweet voice in his ear teased him. He needed to bury himself to the fucking hilt deep in her. Fuck a plan for Friday. Terry wanted to fuck her fine ass stupid.

“I like to watch it go in and out…”

Terry grunted.

“I can’t wait to see that stuck look on your face when I put this dick up in you.”

“I bet it’s a pretty dick…”

“I bet that pussy pretty. Pretty pussy and her pretty mama…”

He squeezed the area beneath his tip, pre-cum coating his fingers for more slip.

“That dick in your hand, Terry?”

“Mhm…that tasty pussy out?”

“Yessss…I’m rubbing her right now.”

“How you play wit’ that pussy, baby?”

Aaliyah giggles, “I stroke my clit…then I push my fingers inside…go back and forth until I make myself cum…”

Terry chewed hard on his bottom lip and he closed his eyes to picture Aaliyah on her back and looking up at him with those sultry eyes.

“You know when I get you I’m eating that pussy good…”

“That’s what I want.” She replied with a breathy tone.

“I’m eating it ‘til you cry, baby…”

“Unh…”

“Do that again…make that sound again…”

“…Unh….”

His dick throbbed in his grip.

“When I stick my tongue in it I want you to look at me and moan just like that.”

“Yes, daddy…”

Terry’s hold tightened around his rigid pipe. He’d never been called daddy, but hearing it from Aaliyah, he wanted her to say it again and again.

“I don’t stop…even when that pussy cum…”

The faint sound of her wet pussy in his ear sparked him to pump faster. This was the most he’d beat his dick in a while. That Wednesday evening, while he was taking a long shower, Terry fucked up into his hand, water splashing and the slick soap creating the best sound and texture in the palm of his hand. His cum shot out like a spiderweb. The biggest cum load he’d seen in a long time. All because of her.

“Mm, fuck…”

Mewling and whimpering.

Terry felt the pressure rise from his balls to the tip of his dick in an instant. He was ready to let off a nut.

“Fuck…Aaliyah…I need you on this dick…right fuckin’ now…I hear that pussy talking…keep fingering that pussy…uh-huh…good girl…such a gooooddd girl…”

“Uhhhhnnn—”

“There you go…let it out…let it all out—FUCK—”

“Cum for me, daddy!”

Terry tilted his dick towards his taut abdomen and painted it with his thick cum. The more he stroked, the more the puddle grew.

“Goddamn…”

“I wish I was there to lick it up…”

His dick twitched.

“I bet you don’t miss a drop.”

“I just know it taste good…”

“You think that throat ready for me?”

“As many times I’ve fantasize about sucking that big dick beneath your desk, I’m more than ready.”

Terry couldn’t believe how hard he still was. He scrunched his face up with arousal and he was unable to contain his excitement to finally get a chance to feel that throat. She probably sounded like an angel slurping and sucking on dick. Her soft moans around his tip…that jeweled tongue lining the path his veins created…spit drooling from her greedy mouth while she looked him in the eyes like a good little slut.

“Fuuuck.”

Terry watched in disbelief as another eruption hit him. He didn’t even touch it. Mouth agape, eyes low and sleepy–like, he watched his dick jump and spasm as more cum escaped his slit. He titled his head back and grabbed himself, jerking to empty his balls fully.

“Professor…”

The sound of liquid hitting a surface titillated his ears.

Fuck. She was squirting.

“Aaliyah…fuck, baby…are you squirting?”

“Yes!”

“I can’t wait to get my hands on you…cute ass moans…I just wanna make you cry and cream. Wish I could kiss that pretty girl goodnight, huh, baby?”

“Just as much as I wish I could wrap my lips around that dick. Send me a pic of your cum.”

Terry aimed his camera on his abdomen and snapped a quick photo before sending.

“Holy shit…that’s a lot…so much wasted…”

She sounded mesmerized. Terry loved that.

A text came through from Aaliyah and it was a photo as well. A photo of her fingers and a large wet spot on her bed. That pussy was nice and messy like he liked. Terry loved it extra gushy. If he had to play in it to get it drippy like he wanted it before fucking it he’d do it for as long as he could. He wanted that shit tangled in his pubic hair, painting his dick, and hanging from his balls.

He wanted that shit so sloppy that his dick would thrust with ease. Bonus points if he painted her walls with his cum. Mixed releases making that pussy talk. She would be sick of him. Begging him to stop. All while he continued to drill. Beat it and eat it. Over and over. He had the stamina to prove it.

“Good girl, that’s how you play in that pussy…my tongue is itching for a taste of that sweet shit again…”

“It’ll be all yours tomorrow.”

Terry pouted slightly.

“I’m gonna go…I need another shower.”

“Me too,” He stared down at the cum stains on his skin, “See you in the afternoon. Hope I didn’t keep you from your studies for that test tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry. I studied earlier. I’m ready. I needed this though, it’s been a while…”

“Happy to be of service. Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Nite, handsome. Think of me.”

“I plan on it.”

——

The slim–fit, black button down of his shirt was the first distraction for Aaliyah.

She’d made it to campus early, not dressed in her usual style of relaxed attire. To her defense, it was drastically humid outside. Aaliyah wore a red, flabby skirt with a flannel shirt over a basic white tee. On her feet she had on a pair of low, all white converse. Her sleek hair was pulled back from her face with a black claw clip and situated over her eyes were her squared, black frames.

Aaliyah found an unoccupied table within the study hall near class and used that hour to do a final look–over of her notes. Her leg bounced beneath the desk as time went. After taking a sip of water through her Stanley cup, Aaliyah could hear the sound of dress shoes against vinyl composition tile. She looked up through her lashes and fought the urge to smile when their eyes connected.

Last night flooded her mind again.

And she knew the same had happened to him.

Sexual tension so thick between them.

The tickle at the pit of her stomach caused her thighs to squeeze together tightly. It wasn’t the brightest thing to do, because now her clit was throbbing. Silently urging her to feed into that tingling sensation. Those green eyes could see right through her. Aaliyah allowed others to fill into the room first. Her eyes fell to his retreating back and then her gaze traveled down until she was staring at his ass sitting profoundly within his black slacks.

Distraction number two.

She wanted to sink her nails into it while he fucked her deep.

“Excuse me…”

Aaliyah was blocking the path towards the laptops for their exam. Gathering herself, she made way for the other students to pass.

“As soon as everyone has their assigned laptops, you can get started. You have an hour. After that, you’re free to leave. If you have any questions, simply raise your hand and I will come to you.”

Aaliyah had a ton of questions.

Why is your dick so big?

What position do you want me in first?

Can I ride your face?

In her seat now, Aaliyah opened her laptop and after locating her exam, she dived right in. So far, the multiple choice and short answer questions weren’t too difficult. After selecting B for the 20th question, Aaliyah’s eyes glanced up and Terry was pacing the front of the class. He caught her staring and with a disapproving look, he tilted his head towards her lap top for her to finish. Aaliyah held in a giggle and went back to doing her exam.

So much for breezing through. The closer she got to the finish line, the more challenging the questions became. She re-read the short answer question, eyes flicking to the remaining time. She had ten minutes left and eight questions remaining. That wasn’t enough time to waste. Her hand shot up in the air and Terry headed over towards her. He settled in front of her desk and slightly bowed his head so that he could whisper to her. Aaliyah connected eyes with him.

“Yes, Miss Davenport?” He said with a hushed tone and a stern expression.

Distraction number three.

“I’m confused on this question here…”

Her finger pointed to her screen. Terry blinked his bluish–green eyes away from her distractingly–beautiful face to see exactly which question she was having trouble with. Aaliyah watched his lips move as he silently read the question.

Distraction number four.

“What constitutes the nature of right and wrong?”

He glanced at her.

“It’s not a trick question, Miss Davenport. That’s all I can give you. I’d hurry along…you have seven minutes left and eight questions remaining.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Terry gave her one final look before slipping away, the scent of his cologne remained however. Aaliyah typed in the best answer she could give and then she finished the remaining multiple choice questions to the best of her ability. The exam closed and the subtle sounds of groaning and lip smacking from other students meant that they didn’t have time to finish.

She hoped she did well. Closing her laptop, Aaliyah lifted from her seat to put it away. Terry was talking closely with a student. Aaliyah didn’t want to make it obvious by sticking around, so she grabbed her things and left the room. Out in the hall, she released a sigh of relief, noticing a few classmates huddled around to discuss the exam. Aaliyah sauntered over to hear what they were saying, agreeing about specific questions and happy that others mirrored her choices. Professor Terry exited the lecture hall with his briefcase in hand. Aaliyah watched him turn rightward, signaling to her that he was on his way to his office.

She didn’t have any other plans that afternoon. She waited until everyone dispersed before walking to his office. As she drew closer, the realization of what she was about to do begun to take hold of her body. Her footsteps came to an abrupt halt in front of a commercial wooden door with a privacy glass panel. A metal plaque hung above the window with the words: Professor Richmond’s Office engraved in it.

Aaliyah glanced from one end of the silent hall to the other. She raised a fist and knocked three times. The distant sound of footsteps followed by the jiggling of the door handle caused her breath to hitch. The door creaked open and Terry peeked his head out at her. Aaliyah entered and Terry pulled her around the door so fast her feet were levitating from the floor.

His door shut with a muffled click.

Terry reached down and snatched her school bag from her hand and her cup. He placed her things on a small table before picking her up. Aaliyah gasped, legs being forced around his waist and locking at the ankles. Terry pressed his forehead against hers before pressing his lips into hers. They settled into a fervent kiss, loud smacking followed by soft exhales filling the cluttered office. The distant sound of an old grandfather clock ticking and the occasional car past the tiny window filled her ears.

Terry’s big hands cuffed Aaliyah’s ass through her skirt. The soft almost silky material glided over her skin in the best way. Heads swiveling, tongues moving in a desperate motion, they continued to explore each other’s mouths, never coming up for air. His mouth tasted like kiwis and ginger. His lips were moist and soft. Aaliyah’s hands clung to his shoulders. Terry kept one hand on her ass and then the other smoothed up her slender back.

“Terry…”

Aaliyah unraveled her legs and Terry let her down gently. She peeled away from him to look around his office. She’d never seen the interior of it. How was he moving around such a small space with his big stature? She almost bumped into a pile of books but Terry stopped them from tumbling over with his hands. Aaliyah giggled into her hand, apologizing for her clumsiness.

“How do you get anything done in here?” Aaliyah asked.

“I don’t spend too much time here. There’s years worth of history, that’s how I found this,” Terry presented the little book to her that he carried with him and read passages from during lecture, “A lot of great points on these old pages…”

Aaliyah skimmed through the dusty spines of old texts. Terry watched her with his arms folded behind his back. She looked back at him over her shoulder with a teasing smirk.

“It’s a little stuffy in here,” Aaliyah removed her flannel shirt, “Much better…”

Terry’s eyes scanned her body slowly.

“That skirt is a choice…what made you wear that today?”

He tilted his head at her with a knowing look.

“It’s so hot out…”

Terry hummed. He didn’t take his eyes off of Aaliyah as he rolled up the sleeves to his button down shirt.

“Didn’t stop you from wearing sweat pants and hoodies before, Miss Aaliyah. Who do you think you’re fooling?”

Aaliyah simply giggled.

“C’mere…”

Terry curled a finger, beckoning her over. Aaliyah placed the tip of her tongue between her teeth and with a sinuous grin she slowly approached Terry, never taking her eyes off of him. He stared down at her short frame while leaning against his desk.

“I had a good time on the phone with you last night,” Terry stroked her chin with his thumb, “You’re such a nasty girl…”

His thumb smoothed over her bottom lip. Terry glided his thumb across it, rubbing in her gloss. That same thumb slipped into her mouth and Aaliyah’s lips wrapped around it and started sucking. She sucked hard. Terry cocked his head, watching her with those powerful eyes. His own lips parted and his pink tongue sat in the corner of his lips.

“You want something to suck on?”

Aaliyah nodded her head, batting those pretty lashes at him all innocent. She was far from innocent.

“Show me that tongue…there you go…”

Aaliyah poked her tongue out for him. Terry stroked her tongue, playing with her tongue ring.

“Can’t wait to feel this on my dick…”

He looked so articulate with his glasses but that mouth on him was deliciously freaky. Another box on her list checked off. He can talk you through it.

“Pretty mouth…such a pretty mouth…”

His thumb slipped from between her lips and Aaliyah dropped to her knees instantly. As she went to work, her eyes never left his. The sound of his belt and the zipper was so loud it was almost deafening. Terry lifted his shirt a little higher, revealing cut muscle with a deep v–cut. Aaliyah’s lustrous eyes noticed a vein along his hip leading down. With a final tug of his pants, that dick she’d been dying to see bobbed out.

The two–toned complexion of his pleasure rod was beautiful. Deep veins created a sinful texture along the girth of his shaft. To be fat and long was a blessing. Terry was blessed. Heavy balls sat tight and suckable. That tip was fat and wet from precum. That big dick jumped in her face. Aaliyah’s eyes slowly ascended to meet his. Terry was staring down at her with silent dominance. His musk mixed with whatever soap he’d used to wash with filled her nose and it almost made her eyes roll.

Touching him and feeling the heat of his manhood sparked a deeper appreciation for that heavy dick. Whatever earlier reservations she had about fucking her professor went straight out the window. Aaliyah’s eyes slowly followed the path her fingers took caressing his well–hung dick. There wasn’t much else to say. The expression on her face was enough to tell.

“Go ‘head put that dick in your mouth.” Terry commanded.

His deep voice. Aaliyah whimpered.

“Closed mouths don’t get fed, baby…”

Aaliyah’s eyes remained locked on him and her tongue licked from the base to the tip. Terry’s brows pinched together slightly when her tongue swirled around his tip. He gripped the edge of his desk like he’d do in class, long fingers holding on so tight the veins in his arms and hands bulged. Aaliyah kissed his pink tip lovingly. The tip is her favorite part. Spongy and sensitive. Terry’s bedroom eyes fringed with thick lashes watched with an unblinking stare. His full lips were parted a fraction.

Aaliyah finally wrapped her lips around him and Terry took it upon himself to remove her claw clip. His long, thick fingers threaded through her sleek strands, pulling it into his fist. Aaliyah never took her eyes off of him. She used her hands to push his shirt up further so she could see that six pack. She’d wanted this dick in her mouth since the bachelor party. The way he looked at her like he wanted to devour her. How possessive he became when Darell tried to suck on her finger.

“You suckin’ it like you wanted this dick for a long time…”

“Mhm…”

Aaliyah worked her neck and jaws. He had this look on his face like he couldn’t believe such a sexy bitch was on her knees worshipping his big dick.

“You’re so sexy…oh, fuck, so sexy, baby…suck that dick…good girl…that’s my good little student…”

The slurping sounds grew louder. Spit bubbles and thick saliva trickled down her neck. She didn’t care about the sloppy mess. Neither did he. Aaliyah gripped his muscular thighs and focused all her energy into making him cum with her mouth. She was sucking the dick for her pleasure, not his. After seeing all that cum on him in that photo last night, she’d been feigning to swallow it all. She just knew it tasted good.

“Damn, gorgeous,” Terry gripped his dick and slapped it on Aaliyah’s tongue, “look at that tongue ring…nasty girl…unnhhh…you love the way this dick feel in your mouth, pretty baby?”

“Yes,” Aaliyah puckered her lips for Terry to slap his heft on it.

“I’ve wanted to do this to you for months now…I finally got you on your knees…right where you belong…you’ve teased me for a minute now…you had me ticked off with all that fuckin’ teasing shit…”

Terry forced his dick further down her throat. Aaliyah gagged. She pushed at his thighs and quirked a brow up at him with a smile on her spit–covered lips.

“Open your mouth…”

Aaliyah stuck her tongue out further and presented her throat to him. Terry could see her uvula dangling and the cavity where his dick belonged. He plunged back in with a fist full of Aaliyah’s soft hair.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me…good girl…that’s what you do, hear me? You follow directions…”

Terry picked up the paced and started fucking her throat. Aaliyah felt hot tears prick her eyes. She breathed through her nose and allowed her fine as fuck professor to dig her throat out. He tugged on her hair, his dick falling out her mouth.

“Uhn uh,” Terry pressed his face closer to hers with a dangerous look in his eyes, “Spit on it…more…spit on my shit…good girlllllll…slurp it up…I said slurp it, Aaliyah.”

Aaliyah went to work on that dick, hand between her legs rubbing her clit with her panties to the side. Terry was falling into her trap. She locked eyes and swallowed his nine inches whole and that had him losing his damn mind. He let go of her hair and braced himself on the desk while Aaliyah two–hand stroked with her mouth suckling.

Terry had to remove his glasses.

Those green eyes narrowed and she could see them roll almost to the back of his head. His mouth opened and a punctuated sigh followed by a groan escaped his mouth. His brows raised when she sucked gently on his balls while stroking his dick. To see him come undone had her pussy dripping. She was dripping onto the carpet.

“Aaliyah, FUCK,” he said through clenched teeth, “yeah? You love this dick, huh? Make this dick cum, fuck, don’t stop…ughhhhhhhhhnnnnn…..”

Terry cradled her head as his body seized up. He locked eyes with her, dick throbbing in her throat. Heavy spurts of cum enough to choke on released and she sucked it down happily. The palatable taste was so delicious she wanted more. Aaliyah’s lips popped off his dick and she stood, wiping the corners of her mouth like she’d just enjoyed a meal. Terry didn’t take his eyes off of her. Aaliyah snatched up some tissue to clean off her chin and neck.

“You okay there, Terry?” Aaliyah teased.

Terry exhaled with a shake of his head. Aaliyah cleaned him off as best as she could before putting his still hard dick back in his pants. She patted his bulge before kissing his cheek.

“I’ll leave you to it then, See you tonight—”

Terry grabbed her hand to stop her from walking away. He’d finally found his voice after that killer throat work Aaliyah gave him. He pulled her into him and rammed his tongue in her mouth.

One hand lifted her skirt up. The fingers on his other hand wrapped around the back of her panties and pulled.

Hard.

——

A tearing sound.

Aaliyah gasped.

He’d torn her panties to shreds.

Was he going to fuck her against the desk?

A knock came to the door.

Aaliyah tensed up.

Terry placed a finger to his mouth to shush her.

“Yes?” Terry replied to the knocking.

“Sorry to disturb you, Terry. It’s Jacqueline. I was wondering if you still plan to attend the meeting this afternoon with the advisors?”

Terry picked Aaliyah up and sat her on his office chair. He threw each leg over the arms of the chair. Aaliyah cut her eyes at the door. She could make out the silhouette of Jacqueline beyond the privacy glass.

“I plan to attend, when does it start?” Terry got down on his knees and with both hands he tugged on Aaliyah’s hips roughly, bringing her ass over the edge of the chair.

“In an hour. There will be lunch. It’s in conference room A today…”

The wheels slid across the carpet from Terry positioning Aaliyah with her legs wide open. Her skirt had ridden up and right before his eyes was Aaliyah’s pussy.

“Good…because I’m starving…”

Terry looked into Aaliyah’s eyes with intensity.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

Terry waited until her footsteps disappeared. He shot up to his feet, long legs leading him to the door. He checked that it was locked before situating himself on his knees again. Terry needed to take a moment to just…admire it.

Smooth, brown, pink center, wet and creamy. Fat lips with fleshy folds made for sucking. Clit nice and hard. Definitely a pretty pussy.

“I ain’t wanna be rude and tell her to fuck off…damn, Aaliyah…damn…”

Terry used his thumbs to spread her. Aaliyah hid her face against her left knee. Each time he would spread her, you could hear the creamy sound of her entrance. He needed to stop playing with it like that. Aaliyah was losing her damn mind.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Terry licked his lips, “You like the way I call your pussy pretty?”

Aaliyah replied with a, “Uh-huh,” with the back of her pointer finger situated between her lips.

“I love how misty your eyes look right now…you need this pussy ate, don’t you pretty girl?”

“Yes,” Aaliyah replied with her sweet voice laced with lust, “Can you talk to me while you eat it, daddy?”

Terry used one thumb to raise the hood on her clit while his other hand had a firm grasp on the chair to keep it in place. He didn’t need it sliding away while he devoured. Without further ado, Terry’s tongue poked out and flattened against her wide open pussy. He put his face in it with his nose pressed against the top of her pussy.

Aaliyah had to bite down on the back of her hand to stop from crying out. Terry’s tongue felt like a tentacle slithering and wiggling on spots that had her eyes crossing. His lips sucked with light pressure on her clit.

“Terry…Terry…Terry…”

He looked at her and it was the most beautiful thing ever. She couldn’t keep her eyes focused on him. That mouth had her seeing the galaxy. Aaliyah’s breathy moans fueled him to go harder. He placed his arms over her spread thighs to keep them back and focused all his energy into making her cum in his mouth. That fat tongue poked her hole as deep as it could go and his lips suckled her clit. He would alternate between light stokes to flickers.

“You taste so good,” Terry smiled at her before licking her clit again, “So sweet…”

“HUH—”

She had to cover her mouth when he circled her clit with his tongue.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that…watch the way I eat you up…”

Aaliyah could only moan. Whenever she tried to speak, Terry would do something with his tongue and lips and it would shut her up. She did make sure to keep his mouth right where it belonged. She had a hand on his head.

“You just keep creaming on my tongue…”

“Why you taste so fuckin’ good, huh?”

“Keep those pretty eyes on me…”

“You know how much I’ve longed to put my mouth on this?”

“Cum in my mouth, now…”

Thighs quivering, body shaking…

“Fuck, Terry, I’m cummingggggggg,” Aaliyah whispered with a tremble in her voice.

She enclosed his face between her thighs and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her mouth dropped open into a silent scream. Soft squeaks leading into tiny whimpers filled his ears. Terry ate her through her orgasm.

When she finally relaxed he gave her soft kisses to her pussy and she dragged her nails through his short curls. Terry peeked up at her and smirked and Aaliyah smiled.

“Kiss me…”

Terry leaned in and Aaliyah swiped her tongue over his lips. Terry parted his lips for her and they tongue kissed.

He broke the kiss, fixing her skirt before standing. Aaliyah stood and her eyes fell to the torn pieces of fabric that was her panties. They both laughed before Terry cleaned it up and tossed it in his briefcase. He’d discard it later, not wanted to leave any evidence behind. Aaliyah took her time fixing her hair in a wall mirror near the door. The scent of her pussy in his mustache caused him to use his fingers to push his upper lip against his nose.

“What time are you picking me up tonight?”

Aaliyah fluffed her hair while looking back at Terry over her shoulder with those eyes he always got lost in. His brown–eyed girl.

“What time are you picking me up?” She asked again

Terry couldn’t help but to lick his lips as he placed his glasses on, “Six. Dinner reservations are at eight–forty–five. It’s in N’awlins. And I was thinking…it’ll probably be best if you pack something light to take with you. Figured it’d be smarter to stay there for the night instead of driving an hour or so back home, ya know?”

Aaliyah settled between his legs and Terry wrapped his arms around her while her arms draped over his shoulders.

“I have plans with some girls on Saturday, Terry…”

“Postpone. With the way I plan on having you, it won’t be a girls night…”

Aaliyah giggled. She pecked his lips a couple times before staring into his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll reschedule.”

“Good,” Terry kissed her neck, “Wear something sexy…with the tallest heel…I love how your legs look when you wear them…”

“Your wish is my command.” Aaliyah whispered against his lips.

She slipped away from him and Terry reached out to pop her on the ass with a bite of his lip. Aaliyah looked back at him with flirty eyes while bending over to retrieve her bag and cup. When she straightened back up. She walked to the door, stopping short to lift her skirt and make her ass clap. She gave him a lick of her lips before leaving him in a daze.

——

Aaliyah flung a few choices on her canopy bed. The sheer, black curtains rubbed against her naked body as she stared between the three choices. A short, black cocktail dress, a form–fitting red dress with a plunging neckline, and a floral summer dress with a high split and her back out. Time was ticking and she still needed to pack her bag. Aaliyah went with the summer dress since she hadn’t worn it yet. She stood in front of her mirror and slipped it on over her skin that glistened from the cocoa radiance body oil she used. It was a sexy dress that would be enough to tease him throughout the night.

Aaliyah packed her bag with an orange bodycon dress, gold sandals to match with accessories, underwear, a satin slip to sleep in, hygiene and hair care needs, some flip flops, a hoodie, and a pair of sweats. Out in her living room, Aaliyah sat on her couch to strap on her stiletto red bottoms. She went for a more glamorous makeup look and a brown lip combo that accentuated her bow–shaped lips.

She’d gone through with canceling her plans for Saturday and it spurred her girls to question her about the man she was spending the weekend with. She didn’t disclose anything to them about Terry, not because he’s her professor, but because she wanted to enjoy him. Her friends didn’t need to know anything right now.

A knock to her door brought her to her feet and Aaliyah peered through her peephole. Terry was standing there dressed in all black with Christian Dior loafers on his feet and a Rolex on his left wrist. He was holding a bouquet of red roses. Aaliyah opened the door and greeted Terry with a megawatt smile and bright eyes. He smiled back at her, opening her storm door to enter her home.

The aura and energy of Aaliyah’s home matched her personality. Seductive and sensual. Low ambience, darker color scheme, the subtle hint of a bitter-sweet floral fragrance. Terry kissed her lips before presenting the roses for her. Aaliyah thanked him and they walked towards her kitchen where she replaced the dying tulips in a vase on her small, dining table with Terry’s roses.

They were on a tight schedule, so Terry led Aaliyah out of her home and down the stairs carefully. His Hellcat with a glossy, beet–red finish awaited them. He opened her door and helped her inside before jogging around to his side. They set off for an hour drive, Terry’s jazz playlist the perfect mood. He couldn’t stop stealing glances at Aaliyah and saying how beautiful she looked. She returned the compliment, saying how handsome he is.

They talked about anything under the moon and laughed at moments. Aaliyah spilled tea and Terry clung onto every word. It definitely helped to keep the long drive going. The thrill of seeing Terry again stirred within her as she listened to him talk. They arrived to their destination, a hotel not far from the restaurant. Bourbon Street was a five minute walk. Terry and Aaliyah entered the spacious hotel lobby. Aaliyah settled next to him at the receptionist desk while he checked them in. Two sleek, black key cards were given to him. They had a room on the third floor.

The hotel had a spooky element to it, reminding Aaliyah of something straight out of the 1800s. The red walls and old–time chandeliers made her feel as if she’d stepped into a Time Machine. They found their room and when they entered, Terry flicked on the lights. They had a king bed with a mirrored wall behind the bed and another full-body mirror near the entrance to the bathroom. There was a standing shower and a double sink as well as a balcony.

Terry checked the time and they had about ten minutes. Leaving the hotel for now, they walked hand in hand, Aaliyah making sure to bring her black clutch with her. After three minutes, they reached their destination. GW Fins was considered a fine dining establishment. Terry opened the door for Aaliyah and with her hand in his, they waltzed up to the hostess. Terry gave his last name and when he was found on the list, the hostess led them past several packed tables until they reached a private booth with candle light.

Settled, they stared at each other, legs touching and their mingled scents lingering. Terry caressed her knee and Aaliyah stroked his Rolex. A waiter sauntered over and filled their glasses with ice cold water. They were too busy eye–fucking each other to notice. The waiter cleared his throat and Terry pulled his gaze away slowly to look up at him. He ordered a Cabernet Sauvignon with carmelized onion tarts and lamb chop bruschetta.

“You look amazing.”

Aaliyah smiled into her glass of wine.

Terry peppered kisses along her neck. Shisha tobacco and intense Bourbon Vanilla flooded her nose from his Smoky cologne. His thumb caressed her knee softly and it had her clit pulsating with need. They ate their appetizers and got drunk off of the expensive wine. When their waiter came around again, Terry ordered their entrees. Some fancy seafood dish Aaliyah couldn’t recall the name of because she was too busy giggling.

“Here’s to more dates together in the near future,” Terry said.

They clinked glasses. Terry eyed her over the rim of his glass while Aaliyah gave him a slight smirk with those beautiful lips.

“Speaking of dates…maybe this is too soon…would you be my plus one to Mike’s wedding?”

Aaliyah blinked at Terry with slight shock.

“Really?” She questioned, not sure if she’d heard him correctly.

“Yeah. I want you to accompany me, Aaliyah.”

She took a sip of her wine.

“…you don’t think they’ll recognize me?”

“…from the bachelor party?”

“Yes…”

Terry’s right brow elevated and he shrugged, “I really don’t care what they think. You’re with me, not them.”

Aaliyah was too stunned by his remark.

“Okay. I’ll be your date.” She agreed.

Aaliyah simmered down her nervousness at being surround by the men that saw her half-naked and his parents who would surely find out that she’s an exotic dancer. Aaliyah drowned out her worries with another heaping glass of red wine. It finally warmed her blood. Her desire for the professor came on heavy and intense like those green eyes of his. Aaliyah propped her elbow on the table and combed her fingers through her hair while staring into his eyes.

Terry looked away and down at his glass while Aaliyah raised his chin for him to focus on her again.

“That drink isn’t going anywhere, Professor.”

She crossed one shapely leg over the other and his eyes were drawn there like a magnet.

“How long before you washed the scent of my pussy off your lips?”

It was the wine. The wine was making her bolder.

Terry scanned the area before responding. He gave her a look that shook her core. The faintest smirk painting his lips.

“As long as I could. But I knew I’d get a taste again.”

“You will…I plan to ride your face.”

Terry laughed. Aaliyah giggled softly before trailing her hand up his thigh and her heeled foot up his leg. Terry’s eyes fell to her heeled foot situated between his legs. With the tips of his fingers, he stroked the top of her exposed foot with a feather–like motion. Aaliyah nibbled on the rim of her glass.

“And I plan to fuck you all over that hotel room.”

That deep voice. That bass. Aaliyah was no more good. Fuck poised, she wanted to hop on that big dick.

“Everywhere, Aaliyah.”

“Good thing I’m on birth control.”

Terry laughed, eyes squinted and smile big and bright. What she really wanted to say was good thing they’re both clean and up to date on screenings like responsible adults because she’d much rather he cream pie her—

“You’re funny…”

“And you’re fine as hell…I can’t help the reckless shit that just comes out of my mouth.”

“You sound so cute when you curse.”

Their food arrived and it was a type of seafood linguine. Unable to finish the rest, Aaliyah slid her plate away and decided to take hers to go since there is a microwave in the hotel room. Terry raised a hand and motioned for the waiter to come over with a slice of chocolate cake and the check.

“The night is still young, think you can hang for a bit before we get back to the hotel?” Aaliyah questioned.

“I’m okay with that, baby. I think you should hit the restroom first after all that wine.” Terry suggested.

Good idea.

Aaliyah slipped away and to the bathroom.

——

Noisy. Raucous. Nocturnal. For many New Orleans visitors, Bourbon Street embodies the life of a party town. The street is lit by neon lights, throbbing with music and decorated by beads and balconies. Bourbon Street has become a place for revelry of all sorts. With its windows and doors flung open to the wandering crowds.

Aaliyah and Terry blended in with the crowd of drunk people. His tight clutch on her hand alerted anyone around them that she belonged to him and it would be best not to try anything. They decided on a bar that played trap music, both of them slipping inside. The red wine had begun to wear off and Terry needed something stiffer. Top shelf bourbon. Aaliyah wanted chilled patron shots. Terry paid cash and they enjoyed their drinks while vibing to the music.

Aaliyah would whine her hips on Terry, rubbing that big booty all over his growing erection. He grabbed her hips and did his own slow grind, catching the attention of patrons that watched with interest. Aaliyah loved to see the wild side of Terry. She made her ass move with quick skill whenever the DJ would put on a bounce mix.

They continued to bar hop, tripping off of people and drinking their fill. In one bar, Aaliyah made Terry her camera man. He recorded videos of her twerking and lifting her dress quickly to reveal nothing underneath. The risk thrilled her and Terry seemed to enjoy it as well. He stole every chance to bend her over a table or a bar so she could rock those hips on him.

Back out on the street, they accepted beads and Terry recorded Aaliyah walking towards him with a model–strut, flashing her titties and jiggling them. He couldn’t wait to suck on those big, brown nipples. Aaliyah complained of her feet hurting, so they stopped inside of a gift shop and Terry purchased a cheap pair of flip flops. He crouched down and took her heels off one–by–one. Terry held them as they walked back to the hotel.

Terry held the door open for Aaliyah and they stumbled over towards the elevators with laughter. On the elevator, Aaliyah pulled her dress down again and Terry pushed her against the wall and bent down to wrap his lips around a hard nipple. He sucked and Aaliyah palmed his erection. The elevator dinged and Terry fixed the front of her dress. He picked Aaliyah up and threw her over his shoulder while he opened the door. The green light flashed and he proceeded inside, placing the do not disturb sign on the outside of the door.

The distant sound of the lively French Quarter could be heard beyond the balcony. Terry flicked on all the lights. He needed that room to be fully bright. Aaliyah kicked off her flip flops. Terry proceed to take off his shirt. Aaliyah looked at him and the realization of what was about to happen washed over her face. She excused herself to the bathroom and Terry gave her space to get situated. Meanwhile, he completely undressed, sinewy body with vigorous muscles and a swole dick on full display.

The door to the restroom opened and Aaliyah walked out, stopping in her tracks when she noticed Terry standing before her fully naked. He approached her and started undressing her with his lips molding into hers. They swapped spit and flicked tongues as the dress slipped down her body and pooled around her feet.

Terry broke their searing kiss to press his forehead against her temple. He stared down at her perky breasts sitting full and round with protruding nipples.

“You’re all mine,” Terry whispered in her ear, his fingers twirling her nipples, “I’m gon’ show you…”

Those big lips of his sucked on her tongue and bottom lip. Aaliyah whimpered into his mouth and thrust her chest forward from Terry tugging on her nipples. The sensation shot straight to her clit.

“Liyah Allure? That’s who I’m getting tonight?”

She felt his dick bounce against her thigh. This man was concrete hard and ready to fuck.

“Yes, daddy…”

They flicked tongues and then Terry abruptly turned Aaliyah around. He arched her over the bed.

“Pop that wet puss…”

Terry’s hand came down on her ass and he gave it a sharp slap. Aaliyah hissed.

“Big ass butt…”

His rough tone stunned her.

Aaliyah grabbed her ankles and started moving that ass. Each time her cheeks spread Terry could see that sweet pink. He stroked himself as he watched her twerk. Aaliyah flipped her hair over and locked eyes with Terry, biting her bottom lip. She eyed the way the vein on the underside of his dick throbbed.

“Mhm, just like that. Do it like that, baby, fuck…”

His body is sculpted to the gods. The muscles in his thighs flexed in conjunction with his abs. Those biceps bulged and it caused the veins in his arms and hands to become more prominent. Honeyed skin so smooth. Heavy balls. Long, thick pipe. This man was on another level of fine.

Aaliyah made her ass clap again.

“I want you right now…”

Aaliyah felt his dick press between her cheeks. Terry brought one hand around to cup her jaw. The other hand reached down between her legs and started rubbing her clit.

“Ooo, Terry…”

He started stoking his dick between her cheeks.

“Big ol’ ass…shit don’t make no sense…pretty titties…you got it all…everything I fuckin’ need…”

“Take what you need…use me…”

“Ooo, use you?” Terry sank two fingers deep inside of her, “you sure you can handle it?”

“I can…can you handle this pussy?”

Terry chuckled, “What you think I’m doing now?”

Aaliyah’s knees buckled.

“…Miss Davenport, keep still…” Terry whispered his command.

“If I don’t?”

Terry shut her up with his thumb on her clit.

“I’ll cuff you.”

Terry’s fingers slipped out and he turned Aaliyah around to face him before thrusting the two fingers that were inside of her into her mouth. Terry gave her an unblinking stare while pushing further and further to the back of her throat. Aaliyah worried her brows and the urge to gag crept up her body.

“Mm–mm, eyes on me.”

She gagged.

“Open up…relax…relax…such a good girl…on your knees.”

Terry watched Aaliyah get on her knees on the bed. He wanted her arched so he could have access to her ass and pussy from the back. Aaliyah grabbed him by the balls and force–fed her throat big dick. Terry dragged his bottom lip into his mouth and hummed his approval.

Gawk gawk gawk gawk…

So rigid and unyielding.

“I knew you were the woman for me. Look how you suckin’ this dick, look…”

Aaliyah could see herself in the mirror on the wall behind the bed. Her body arched with her ass in the air and her lips wrapped around his dick aroused her.

“See that, pretty baby?”

Terry caressed her cheek with his knuckles. Aaliyah never took her eyes off of the mirror.

“Too fine…”

Terry popped her ass. Aaliyah jerked with one hand while sucking.

“Get the balls…mhmmmmm….so nastyyyy….”

Terry had Aaliyah leaking. The way he talked to her alone could make her cum.

Aaliyah popped her lips off, “Big Daddy…” she moaned.

She two–hand jerked him while looking up at him with doe eyes. Eyes that told him she needed him deep inside of her. Terry grunted on repeat, the urge to cum creeping up and up—

“I’M FINNA BUST—”

Aaliyah stuck her tongue out and Terry erupted all over her lips and in her mouth.

With urgency, Terry went to lay down on his back with his head hanging over the end of the bed. He forced Aaliyah to grind on his face. She put her hands on her knees and rolled her hips over his face. Terry sucked, licked, and kissed. He reached up to hold her in place, stilling her movements while he worked his lips and tongue In tandem to make her cum. Aaliyah clung onto her weak knees and her entire body shook.

“TERRRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!”

He didn’t stop. Aaliyah didn’t know whether to crawl away from his lethal mouth or stay still. This man knew her body better than any man she’d been with.

“Umph,” Aaliyah whimpered, “You’re making me cum…I’m cumming again…whew, fuck…oh shit!”

Terry gripped her waist to keep her on his face. Aaliyah intertwined her fingers with his while riding out her orgasm. When the tremble in her legs surpassed, Terry came to the surface with a moist face. Aaliyah lunged at him and Terry caught her, lifting her up.

He curled one arm beneath her left knee and with his other hand he rubbed the tip of his dick between her folds.

“Let me hear that sound I like…mmm…so wet…I love it messy, baby…enough for me to slide right in you…”

Aaliyah had never been fucked in this position. She was a little afraid. Terry sensed her nervousness and peppered kissed along her neck.

“Terry, it’s big…”

Aaliyah held onto him tightly. Heart pounding against his chest. He tried to settle her with a deep kiss. With the perfect distraction, Terry was finally able to feel her snug walls around his dick.

He pushed up into her and Aaliyah’s mouth dropped open. A desperate moan against his lips with her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders was her initial reaction. That pussy, however, needed to be opened up.

——

“Relax for me, Aaliyah…where’s that big girl energy?”

Terry dropped her down and Aaliyah almost cut off his circulation with how much she squeezed him. Both arms curled beneath her knees now, Terry turned sideways in the full–length mirror and pounded up into her while bringing her down to meet his thrusts.

Aaliyah buried her face into his neck. Terry started off slow. He watched the way his dick disappeared then reappeared. Astonished wasn’t even the word.

“Look, baby…”

Aaliyah didn’t have the strength to look. She was buried with big dick and it was grazing her spot.

“I know, I know…”

Terry quickened his pace. Aaliyah could feel everything.

“Oh my god…” she whispered.

Terry palmed her ass and thrust up into her while keeping her stationary. Aaliyah’s toes curled under and she felt herself slipping. Terry crouched slightly to hike her up.

Aaliyah stares into his eyes while clinging onto him.

“Aaliyah…I’m going faster…you ready?”

Terry started pounding and Aaliyah cried out.

“Fuck…you gotta keep still…fuck this pussy is so good…been waitin’ to get in this pussy…”

“Uhm!!!! SHIT!”

She couldn’t believe how wet she was.

She couldn’t believe she was going to squ—

Terry was forced out from the sudden release of liquid. He slapped her clit to release more and then he rubbed it back and forth. His dick had a mixture of cream and wetness all over it.

Placing her on the bed, Terry arched Aaliyah’s back.

“With the way you put that ass in the air…you know how I want you.”

Aaliyah looked back at Terry. He looked her in the eyes and smirked at her. He sank right inside of her from behind. Terry caressed her ass and smoothed his hands down her back. Aaliyah wouldn’t keep still.

“What did I say? If you move, I cuff you…”

He’d been waiting to get up in her and put that dick on her something serious and she couldn’t follow directions? Terry was irritated. He slipped out and went to grab the cuffs. Aaliyah watched him return and secure her wrists.

“Can’t run now…I told you I’m getting in this pussy…”

He thrust in and Aaliyah could feel him in her belly.

“Big ass dick!”

“This big dick got you creamy, baby…”

Aaliyah’s muffled cries into the sheets were drowned out by the incessant clapping her ass was doing. Terry put a power behind his strokes that had her feeling it from the tippy–tip to the base. Direct thrusts and keeping the same stroke. This man went from lecturing her about the evolution of morality to talking her through it.

"Look at me while I fucking use you."

The sex was too good. Sex so good Aaliyah’s flustered and embarrassed from all the incoherent nonsense she was mumbling. Quite literally, she can't stop herself from burying her face in the pillow to hide how much she’s blushing and moaning.

Terry has her trapped with an iron hand.

She can’t focus on watching herself getting fucked. But Terry had other plans.

He grabbed Aaliyah buy the cuffs with one hand and his other hand wrapped around her throat from the front.

“I said watch the way I fuckin’ use you.” He barked out.

She could see the way her ass moved like a tidal wave. Terry trapped her with his eyes and as tears rolled down hers from how good and intense it felt he didn’t stop. He stayed on her spot.

“Shit yankin’ this dick…this good pussy and you think I’m not gon’ fuck you the way you deserve?”

Terry pressed his face against her ear and went…harder.

The clapping echoed.

He pressed his face into her hair and groaned when Aaliyah’s walls convulsed around him. She erupted so intensely that she had no control over her body. Terry took off the cuffs and massaged her wrists while kissing her temple.

Aaliyah gasped when he slipped out.

She couldn’t believe it. He was still HARD.

Terry went to lay on his back and he pulled Aaliyah close. She rested her head against his shoulder while He stroked her arm.

“Did you like it when I cuffed you?” Terry asked.

“I did. I liked it more than I thought I would.” Aaliyah smiled.

“Aaliyah…”

She looked up at him. Terry met her gaze.

“I really like you…and I want to take you on more dates and be serious about courting you. Is that okay?”

“…I really like you too, Professor. We can’t go public with this…At least not yet.”

“Definitely. You don’t have much longer to graduate, only a little less than two months…”

“I’d love to go on more dates with you and get to know you more…”

Aaliyah traced Terry’s nipple. With her cheeks pressed against his chest, she stared down at that beautiful dick.

“Are you tired yet?” Aaliyah questioned.

She sat up to stare down at him.

“I want you to fuck me more…”

“How you want it this time?”

Aaliyah trailed her hand down to grip him.

“I want my legs over your shoulders…I’m used to this dick now. I like the way it kisses the back of my pussy. Makes me cum each and every time…think you can do that for me?”

Terry sat up and Aaliyah crawled beneath him. He situated himself above her, holding himself up in a push–up position.

“We didn’t use a condom…”

Aaliyah realized that.

“If I cum in you…” Terry warned.

“Then paint me….”

Aaliyah brought her ankles over Terry’s shoulders. He lined himself up and with his eyes never leaving hers, he pushed deeper, her pussy enveloping him again. Aaliyah’s eyes shut and she extended her neck, releasing a longing sigh of joy.

“Yes…yesssss…yeeeesssssssahhhh…”

She loved it. Terry put his fists into the bed and went faster. They both watched his dick bury her over and over.

“Damn, Aaliyah…shit so…fuckin’…good…”

He punctuated his thrusts with his words.

Terry gave her nipples some more attention with his teeth and lips while his hips snapped into hers. The more he fucked, the more his big dick glided.

“Gettin’ that dick in you nice and easy now…this what I like…and you thought I wouldn’t fit…look at you now…taking it all…”

“Yea, Big Daddy, I love this dick,” Aaliyah moaned

They kissed. A deep kiss that had Terry’s hips coming to a complete stop. He was still deep inside of her, but those lips were a distraction. Terry’s lips slipped away and Aaliyah got lost in his green eyes while he fucked her. She nibbled on her lip and studied the way his handsome face crumbled with defeat.

“You wanna cum? Cum all over me with that big dick…”

“Ughhh–uhhhh–mmmmm—”

Faster.

“D–don’t st–top! Fuck your p–pussy!!!!”

“Aaliyah!”

Terry pulled out and pumped, thick, milky–white cum that painted her pussy lips, stomach, and titties.

“Mmm,” Aaliyah gathered some on her fingers and dragged it over her tongue while looking him in the eyes.

“Nasty girl…”

Aaliyah smiled at him before bringing her feet down to rest on his chest. Terry grabbed her feet and kissed her insteps, causing her to giggle.

He couldn’t wait to give her more dick.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dashhoney25

[avocado-writing]

I'd like to think that Logan is the best weather detector. His bones are bow metal he just feels when it's about to rain or snow, whenever the fronts change.

“It’s gonna rain.”

“What?” you ask, glancing up from your phone where you’ve been googling the best places to grab dinner. Logan stares at the sky, nostrils flaring just a bit, scenting the air like he’s an animal. 

It’s really cute. You have to resist the urge to boop his nose. You don’t imagine he’d be too thrilled at that, though, so you remain strong. 

“I can tell,” he mutters. Looking up, the sky seems bright and clear.

“Are you sure?”

“Never wrong about this stuff, bub. I can feel it in my bones.”

He says it with such seriousness that you can’t help but laugh. He turns to you and cocks an eyebrow, and you attempt to swallow your reaction. God, he’s so sexy, you don’t know how you can stand it. 

“Okay, well, weather-boy, I’m not too worried. You still wanna go out and eat or what?”

“Sure,” he says in that slightly smug manner where he knows he’ll win out in the end. 

Two and a half hours later, well-fed and slightly wine drunk, you’re standing in the doorway of the restaurant, watching the downpour as you unsuccessfully try to hail a taxi. 

“Don’t say a word, Howlett,” you harrumph, but his self-satisfied grin is worth a thousand of them.  God, it makes you want to slap it off his face. You never would, of course… that is unless he asked you to very nicely. 

“Doesn’t look like any of those cabs are stopping,” he remarks, with an exaggerated sigh designed to annoy you. It’s no use. Looks like they’re all taken up by people who also fell foul of the weather… but they didn’t have their own personal forecast machine to warn them against being outside in the first place. 

You shiver. You wish you’d taken a coat. You feel really damn stupid right now, and it makes you ache a bit that Logan has to witness it. 

Suddenly you’re aware of a heavy warmth around your shoulders. You look up to where Logan’s taken off his leather jacket and wrapped it around you; it smells of cigar smoke and pine, and you bury yourself into it, enjoying the feeling of being totally engulfed in him. 

“Thanks,” you mutter shyly. The smile he gives you this time is sincere and affectionate. 

“C’mon, we’ll walk. It’s not that far back.”

“But you’ll get wet…!” you protest, feebly. Logan turns back to you and you take him in properly, all 6’2” of him in his jeans and far too tight white t-shirt.  Suddenly the image of him absolutely drenched appears in your mind like it was snipped from your dirtiest dream. The way the cotton would cling to his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination…

“Oh no, I’m sure you’d hate that,” he says with a smirk, as if he’s read your thoughts. He holds out a hand to you and you take it eagerly, giggling as he drags you into the rain. 

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Welcome to my Tuesday morning PSA about plastics!

So--I was walking along the Bolstadt beach approach sidewalk here in Long Beach, WA yesterday afternoon, and I started seeing these little orange pellets on the ground that looked a little bit like salmon roe (but probably weren't). So I picked one up, and it was most definitely rubber. I went around picking up every one I could find, and while I didn't keep exact count I probably amassed 50-60 of them. I took this picture before depositing them in the nearest trash can.

These are airsoft gun pellets, and you can buy them in big jars containing thousands of them. That means that someone who decided that the beach was a great place to shoot their airsoft guns could easily litter the place with countless little bits of plastic rubber in less than an hour. We already have a huge problem here with people leaving trash, including tiny bits of plastic, all over the beach (you should see the gigantic mess after 4th of July fireworks when thousands of people come in from out of town, blow things up, and then leave again without picking up after themselves.)

But these airsoft pellets have a particularly nasty side effect. You know how my first thought was "wow, those look kind of like salmon roe?" Well, we have a number of opportunistic omnivore birds like crows, ravens, and several species of gull that commonly scavenge on the beach, especially along the approaches because people often feed them there. If I can catch the resemblance of an orange airsoft pellet to a fish egg, then chances are there are wildlife that will assume they're edible.

Since birds don't chew their food, they probably won't notice that the taste or texture is wrong--it'll just go down the hatch. And since they can't digest the pellets, there's a good chance they might just build up in the bird's digestive system, especially if the bird eats a large number of them--say, fifty or sixty of them dropped on the ground along the same fifty foot stretch of sidewalk. The bird might die of starvation if there's not enough capacity for food in their stomach--or they might just die painfully of an impacted gut, and no way to get help for it. If the pellets end up washed into the ocean, you get the same issue with fish and other marine wildlife eating them, and then of course the pellets eventually breaking up into microplastic particles.

You can get biodegradable airsoft pellets; they appear to mainly be gray or white in color rather than bright screaming orange and green. But "biodegradable" doesn't mean "instantly dissolves the next time it rains." An Amazon listing for Aim Green biodegradable airsoft pellets advertise them as "Our biodegradable BBs are engineered to degrade only with long-term exposure to water and sun and will degrade 180 days after being used." That's half a year for them to be eaten by wildlife.

I don't know, y'all. That handful of carelessly dropped rubber pellets just encapsulates how much people don't factor in the rest of nature when making decisions, even on something that is purely for entertainment like an airsoft gun. We could have had a lot of the same technological advances we have today, but with much less environmental impact, if we had considered the long-term effects on both other people and other living beings, as well as our habitats. We could have found ways from the beginning to make these things in ways that benefited us but also mitigated any harm as much as possible. Instead we're now having to reverse-engineer things we've been using for decades, and sometimes--like the "biodegradable" airsoft pellets--they still have a significant negative impact.

But--at least there are people trying to do things better, thinking ahead instead of just on immediate profit. We're stuck in a heck of a mess here, figuratively and literally, and changing an entire system can't be done in a day. Maybe we can at least keep pushing for a cultural shift that emphasizes planning far into the future--if not the often-cited "seven generations ahead", then at least throughout the potential lifespan of a given product.

[miyaagis]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐I desire violently—and I wait. gojo satoru

political unions are means to strengthen a clan, and you were lucky enough to willingly accept his affections and give him an heir—a son. so, why does he need backup heirs from other women?

explicit content‐mdni. ₊˚⊹ ⚝ clan head!gojo, wife+mom!reader, infidelity, hurt little comfort, angst, jealousy, gojo being a boy dad, unnamed three-year-old baby gojo, pet names (honey, love), mentions of breeding and pregnancy.

word c. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ a bit over 1,000

clan head gojo art inspo

the gojo estate had always been blessed with bright landscapes during winter.

gray skies blended seamlessly with the light colored buildings, graced by the light rain (even with monsoon season still months away) and a calm atmosphere brought by the cold mornings.

"fishie c'mere."

your son wiggled his little fingers inside the water of the fishpond, squealing in delight when a fish splashed next to him. the three-year-old turned to look at you, bright eyes shimmering with mirth and child-like wonder.

"kōhaku!"

still crouched next to the pond, he loudly repeated what he had been taught recently by his governess.

even at his young age, his curiosity for the world surrounding him seemed endless, constantly having the clan's nannies on their toes only to get his way with that charming smile he clearly inherited from satoru.

"is that my mochi!?"

the exaggerated gasp from your husband quickly caught the little boy's attention, searching for his dad by turning his head left and right.

satoru's grip around his son came from behind, his little sandals falling from his feet as he's thrown up in the air before landing safely in his father's arms.

"papa, look! kōhaku!"

your husband gasps, dangling the boy over the pond as they watched the fish swim, "woahhh! my son is so smart!"

the little boy giggled as satoru littered his chubby cheeks with kisses, getting thrown over his dad's shoulder as they made their way towards you.

"good morning, my love," he leaned down to peck your lips, smiling tenderly at you. "has the little squirt been giving you any trouble?"

"he woke up an hour ago" you sighed, and he could perfectly picture you handling the cranky boy all by yourself.

"mama, i'm hungry." your son whined, letting his head fall against satoru's shoulder as he pouted adorably. "tummy hurts."

"go wash up, I'll handle breakfast," seeing the tired look on your face, he knew he had to cut you some slack and do his part as a parent. "take as long as you need, sweetheart."

with a kiss on your temple and a thankful smile from you, he sent you back to your shared bedroom while he took your little one to the kitchen.

"c'mon, mochi. let's go make mama something yummy."

—

two hours earlier.

satoru felt the warm embrace of his mistress nuzzling against him, her arms wrapped around his middle, and their legs tangled together under the thick comforter.

the sun wasn't even up, but the birds already chirped loudly through the window.

her faint sigh caught his attention, pulling her closer by throwing her leg over his hip while caressing the smooth surface of her thigh. they didn't even bother with clothes the night before, cocooning against each other after falling limply on the bed.

small kisses had warmth blooming on her skin, the comforting heat shared between their nude bodies as they stayed cuddled together.

"again?"

the clear disbelief in her tone made him chuckle, grunting softly as he pulled half of her body on top of his.

"I have to make sure it takes."

she hummed and smiled sleepily, pressing her lips onto his as he nudged her bare folds with the crown of his shaft right before sinking in her warmth.

they both felt their bodies ease up in relief, soft sighs exchanged in between sloppy kissing as he lazily thrust inside her.

satoru kept his face nuzzled against her neck, breathing her in while his arms wrapped around her. eventually, his lips moved back to her mouth in need of intimacy, the languid strokes of their tongues matching the steady pace of their lovemaking.

it didn't take him long to feel his member twitch and throb, emptying another load of his seed inside the woman, murmuring sweet nothing's as his length softened and slipped out of her.

satoru found it easy to fall asleep again with his mistress in his arms.

—

the fabric of your robes rustled silently around your feet—which seemed glued to the floor, as you watched her exit the main house of the gojo estate after another meeting between the Gojo's and her own clan.

her eyes met yours, and her hand immediately went to her flat stomach, as if protecting it, which made you scoff. and it only worsened when your husband held her hand as he helped her descend the wooden stairs.

all you could offer was a blank, emotionless stare, your sleeping son carefully held in your arms with his face hidden in the crook of your neck.

her eyes went to him, and your instincts screamed at you to shield him from her. what else did she want from you? was she after your son as well?

satoru swiftly rushed his mistress towards the exit so he could go back to you, having seen your distress. once he met you at the entrance of your own home, his frame interrupted your stare-down with the woman.

"let's go inside, honey." his tone was calm and gentle, coaxing you to let the issue go and head inside, but you didn't move. "please?"

"have you fulfilled your part of the deal?"

the coldness of your gaze had your husband pouting like a kicked animal. he ached to reassure you of his love, but he was quickly running out of ways to prove it.

"yes, I have."

wordlessly, you turned around with your son cradled close to you, his little fingers clinging onto your robes and satoru right behind you.

"my love, I hold no feelings. you know this already."

his reassurance was of little to no use. how he expected you to accept him impregnating another woman was beyond you.

"it's a political union," he vehemently said, knowing he had to convince you that she'd never become a wife of his. he'd give her a child—a backup heir—in exchange for her clan's resources and political ties. "I hold no feelings. you are my wife and the mother of the gojo clan's heir."

after putting down your son in his bed, making sure his soft hair was out of his forehead and the blanket kept him warm, you finally met satoru's gaze back.

"I don't want to know anything about her existence. don't ever bring her to my home again."

satoru nodded eagerly, willing to promise anything in order to end your sour mood. "I won't."

your son's room went silent besides the small breaths of his as he slept, unaware of the conflict worming inside his own home.

"but I will be out of our home more often." satoru knew he had to be careful with his words, blue eyes watching your reaction closely. there was no way to make it hurt any less, and he was finding it harder to conceal the excitement brimming from him. "she's pregnant."

satoru had to make sure the mother of his unborn baby had everything she wanted—him included.

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi!!!! if you’re still writing for remus, i was wondering if u could write something like rem and reader being super close friends and they just realize they have feelings for each other in a not very dramatic way, just kind of like, i love this closeness and i want more of it way?

sorry if i’m not good at requesting english isn’t my first language!!!!

Your English is perfect babe! Don’t worry about that! I hope you enjoy this Remus x best friend!reader on their weekly sleepover with a sleepy love confession ᡣ𐭩

“Did you see that new realty show about the girls who make more than their husbands?”

You ask Remus as he hands you a cup of tea. You’re curled up on his sofa, feet tucked neatly under you as you scroll through tv programs.

“No I haven’t seen it. Did you start it yet, dove?”

Remus sits beside you, the bottoms of your feet pressed into his thighs.

“No, I started one episode and fell asleep.”

Remus laughs, “That’s not a good sell,” you smile sheepishly.

You and Remus do this every Saturday- meet at either of your houses for lunch that turns into dinner and dessert and sleeping over cuddled next to each other.

You both swear you’re not in love with each other to your friends, but as his hand falls to your ankle and tugs your feet into his lap, you know it’s not true.

In turn, Remus knows that you’re in love with each other by the way you look at him as his thumbs press into the arches of your foot and your foot stretches into his palm.

“It was going pretty well, I was just so knackered.” A yawn tears apart your words as if to prove your point.

Remus nods sagely, taking a sip of his tea to hide his smile.

“Start it up then dovey,” you click the first episode with a pleased look on your face.

“If I fall asleep here please wake me.”

Remus rolls his eyes and you scowl, “You hurt your back the last time.”

Remus scoffs, “I did not! It was just rained that night so my muscles hurt a little extra.”

“Well I don’t want them to hurt any extra tonight, Rem.”

He nods, but you’re suspicious.

Remus watches one episode all by himself because you barely make it past the 15 minute mark.

It’s no matter to him, because he gets the chance to really look at you and feel his heart galloping in his chest without feeling like his face will give his feelings away.

Your eyebrows as without a furrow, which is strange for your seemingly permanent semi-frown, your cheek smushed under your hand and your lips all the more pouty for it. God he wishes he could just give you a quick peck.

Instead, he busies himself with cleaning up- putting your mugs in the dishwasher, wiping his counters down and going to his room to unmake the bed a bit.

His touch is featherlight as it graces your cheek, “Bedtime, precious girl.”

His hands slip under you and you rouse, a bleariness that can only come about by waking from a deep sleep making Remus smile.

“You’re so stubborn.” Sleep eats through your words, like molasses dribbling off a spoon. Remus kisses your temple.

“You’re adorable,” he lays you down on your side of the bed and you look at him with much more severity for your play argument.

“I think I’m in love with you Remus.” The words escape you with no pretenses or fanfare- just the simple, love infused words.

Remus’ hands stutter where they’re pulling your favoured blanket over you.

He kneels down and you twist under the sheets to face him, his hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking all the creases there from your palm resting there.

“I know I’m in love with you too dove, but I’d like to take you out on a proper date tomorrow if you don’t mind.”

You smile wide and bright for a night only half illuminated by the moon, “I don’t mind in the slightest.” Remus’ smile mirrors your own. He spends a couple minutes stroking your face, your eyes fluttering shut heavily. “Would you come up here? Give your knees a break, Rem.”

He scoffs a laugh, “You’re so bossy.” His lips brush your cheeks and then your nose.

“Wait I want a real kiss first.” He laughs outright then. His lips parting to puff air on your face as he does.

“No wait for our date,” you whine and pout all with your eyes closed, it’s then and instantly Remus realises he’ll never be able to deny you because he coos and tilts your face towards him. “One kiss.”

You parrot, “One kiss.”

Remus’ lips press into yours softly, soft and not more than a peck but it satisfies you. His knees crack as he stands, slipping into his side of the bed before you can say anything.

You turn to face Remus, bodies pressed close. His hand drags up and down your back, settling you. “You’re spoilt rotten already and it’s only going to get worse.” He murmurs fondly as you fall asleep, his smile hard to tame.

[my-castles-crumbling]

key - december 29th - jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 274 rain - december 29th - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic

Regulus should have known, given who he was dating, that things in his life would never be predictable.

He was in the rain, half-running through a storm, phone glued to his ear, when James casually mentioned it. "I'm almost to your place, will you let me in as soon as I get there?" he asked breathlessly as soon as James picked up.

"I'm not home just yet," James said through the line. "Just let yourself in, yeah?"

Nearly tripping in a puddle, Regulus rolled his eyes. "How will I do that, James? It's not like I have-"

"Use the key I gave you, love. On your keyring."

Wondering if he was going crazy, Regulus stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to look at his keys. "James, you didn't give me-"

But he did. Because right there, on his keyring, was a key labelled J+R that he's never seen before.

Swallowing a strange lump in his throat, Regulus began to walk again. "When did you give me this?"

"Last week, when I asked you to move in! That's why you've been here for a week non-stop now, innit?"

And again, Regulus stumbled. Because when James mumbled, half asleep, six days ago, "Just...how about you never leave?" and Regulus had agreed, he hadn't realized....

But now that James said it, the idea quickly took up a rather bright spot in his heart.

"I...yes," he said, a slightly-watery smile on his face as he stopped in front of James's- his- building.

"Want to order something out? Maybe from that pizza place? I'll grab it on my way back."

Regulus could not stop grinning. "Sounds great, Jamie."