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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 3 months ago

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House Calls.

Part Five

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.

In the early morning, just before the sunlight came in through the balcony, sultry jazz titillated her ears. The AC was cranked to combat the humid climate, and the smell of fresh linen mixed with Shisha tobacco and intense Bourbon Vanilla tickled her nose pleasantly. There's never a dull moment in this Crescent City.

Aaliyah shivered with arousal when Professor Richmond’s long arm circled her waist from behind and pulled her into him. Her plush cheeks collided with his dick that was so hard it reminded her of a metal bat. Her eyes widened a fraction and her soft lips parted, releasing a little breath of arousal. Terry’s warm breath ghosted across the back of her neck. Suddenly, his lush lips grazed the skin of her neck and he started peppering feather–like kisses on her skin.

“Can’t sleep.” Terry whispered.

“Neither can I,” Aaliyah tilted her head back, blinking her siren eyes at him, “All of you is awake.”

Terry chuckled against her bare shoulder. He nuzzled his nose there to inhale her scent.

“Your own fault, mon amour…”

“I’m happy to know that I turn you on…”

Terry raised his head behind Aaliyah to peer down at her. She shifted her body slightly, the white linen soft as it grazed her stiffened nipples. They stared at each other unblinking, too caught up in the moment of being together in such a way. Aaliyah hadn’t imagined it would get this far. She’d teased him, enjoying the push and pull, but never had she expected to end up in bed with him.

And fucked by him.

She was still on cloud nine about their phone sex and that was days ago.

“I bet you are. Now, you belong to me…”

Terry stroked Aaliyah’s cheek with his thumb.

“…And only me.”

“Quite possessive, Professor don’t you think?”

The soft spoken words was something akin to an angel whispering. A harmonic voice so sweet yet so powerful.

“Let’s not do that, Aaliyah. You’ve been on my mind the moment I laid eyes on you. And although you turned me down for that lunch, I would have tried again and again to have you.”

Aaliyah rotated her head away from Terry’s penetrating stare and handsome smirk, suddenly bashful beneath him as he hovered above her. How was it possible to feel the sweltering heat of desire wafting from him? It set off an inferno that she could feel throughout. From her scalp to the soles of her feet. Intensely.

He was a man of his word no doubt. That pleased Aaliyah and made her nervous all at once.

No man has ever made her nervous.

“Look at me…”

Aaliyah leisurely turned her gaze back to him. He sat up on his elbow above her, his biceps flexing beneath the golden glow of the wall sconces with a brass finish. The king sized bed with a black velvet wall panel headboard hadn’t been broken in enough. Terry gave her a silent look that told her without words that he needed her body again.

Terry stroked some of her soft, sleek hair from her face, the strands brushing her shoulder and fanning out against the pillow beneath her. With one hand, he cradled the back of her neck, and with the other he traced the curves along Aaliyah’s lips before tilting down to capture those succulent lips of hers. His tongue swept across her bottom lip, urging for entry. Aaliyah opened for him, her eager tongue gliding over his in a slippery tango. Their heads swiveled back and forth. Terry had a hazy look in his oceanic eyes.

Her pliant legs circled his waist and Terry pressed his stiffness against her soaked lower lips. The mixed heat radiating from between their legs caused Aaliyah’s clit to ache for him. Terry’s dick pulsated like a heartbeat from the softness of her pussy and the slick coating his veiny shaft. The soles of her feet brushed against his sides. Terry’s tongue delved deeper, almost dislocating his jaw. Aaliyah hissed when one of his large hands wrapped around her neck.

She broke their kiss, Terry colliding with her jaw. Aaliyah swayed her head against the restraint, nibbling on her bottom lip from the sensation of his teeth grazing her skin and his tongue tickling her neck. The warm breath from his lips made her squirm and sigh. She was an assertive woman who spent her nights as a cam girl telling men what to do. It was time she got broken down and gave her body over to someone else for a change.

Long fingers appeared between her legs. Terry raised his head above her exquisite face, looking down on her with blazing eyes so caught up in lust for her. His lush lips parted a fraction, giving her a view of his pink tongue and porcelain teeth. Her nipples looked like chocolate–covered gum drops the way they poked out so stiffly. Goosebumps decorated her skin that reminded him of a caramel delight. Whenever Aaliyah became aroused and flustered, the tip of her nose and the tops of her cheeks would deepen in color.

Glossy brown eyes tried to focus on his face but her lids were disobeying her. Terry studied her face like she was the most beautiful art piece he’d ever seen. He shifted his body to rest beside her, propping his body up on his elbow while his free hand played between her legs. Aaliyah spread herself for him, pink pussy glistening.

Terry studied the shape of her pretty pussy, taking note of how her outer lips and inner lips were relatively the same size. Her clit to labia created a wishbone shape and instead of its usual bright pink it resembled more of a coral pink from how aroused she is. He stroked between her inner folds with a single finger, and each time his finger would swipe over her clit, Aaliyah’s hips would jerk in response.

“Mind if I take my time and play in this pretty pussy?”

Aaliyah resulted to shaking her head. Words were lost to her. His manicured fingers felt too good and skillful. His smooth baritone in her ear sent shivers throughout her body. Terry propped up one leg, the movement causing his fully extended and solid dick to bounce. Aaliyah stared at his stick with a stunned expression. Heavy balls acted as a pedestal to keep that heavy dick poked out. The glow of the lights highlighted the veins along his girth and the drizzle of pre cum on his fat tip.

“You’re so hard right now,” Aaliyah whispered with astonishment.

Terry’s mesmerizing eyes dropped down to look at her. He pushed two fingers deep—middle and ring finger—all the way down past his knuckles. Aaliyah sucked in a breath, locking eyes with him. Terry didn’t waste time reaching depths between her walls. A creamy essence coated his long fingers and the sound of his passionate stirring was on full max.

“Mm, you get so messy for me I love it,” Terry spoke softly against Aaliyah’s forehead, “Pussy responding how I want it to…wet and gushy…got my fingers moving in and out so easy…”

Aaliyah pinched and tugged on her nipples. She licked her lips with her jeweled tongue, her eyes focused between her legs.

“Sexy women,” Terry pecked her forehead, “Pussy feel good don’t it?”

“Yessss…”

“This what you deserve…you want me in this pussy all you gotta do is ask…let me know and I’ll make this pussy cum however you want me to…”

Aaliyah’s pussy clenched around his fingers as a reaction to his words. It did things to her knowing he would do whatever it takes to please her.

“…is this an open invitation to come to your office whenever I want you to make me cum?”

“Mhm,” Terry pushed deeper, “No panties…show up ready to cum…like the nasty little slut you are…”

Terry’s movements increased. The faster he went, the harder his palm collided with Aaliyah’s clit. It sounded like he was plunging into a body of water. He had Aaliyah’s pussy sounding like he was splashing in a puddle on a rainy day. Aaliyah released her nipples and Terry bowed down, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking hard.

Terry’s tip was weeping. Pre cum drizzling down the back of his shaft in a slimy trail. Terry popped his lips off of her nipple when the sensation of Aaliyah’s soft, delicate hand circled his thickness. The thick vein on the underside of his dick pulsated against her palm the more she twisted her fingers. She was right on his spot, just beneath his tip, her thumb brushing across him.

Terry pressed his thumb against Aaliyah’s clit as he finger fucked her. Her wrist went limp and she paused as her body seized up to prepare for eruption. He could see her stomach caving in repeatedly, her eyes watered, her toes flexed. Terry went back to sucking her nipples as he worked the muscles in his arm and hand to bring Aaliyah over the edge.

“Unh…unf…yes…uhhh…Professor!”

Aaliyah’s hips started lifting to meet his fingers. Sweet moans filled the air.

“Oh fuck!” She screeched.

Terry flicked his tongue on her left nipple and his fingers slowed down to a stop inside of her. A puddle of her cum stained the sheets. He gently pulled his fingers out, mouth agape when he noticed they were dripping. He brought them to his mouth, sucking slow.

“Taste good?” Aaliyah asked with a seductive lilt.

“So good, baby…I wanna taste more…”

“All for you to have, big daddy…”

“Big daddy? Is that right?”

Placing himself between her legs, Terry curled his arms around Aaliyah’s thighs. He adjusted himself to lay on his stomach, leaned forward, and ate her pussy like an exquisite meal he would never have again. He didn’t stay on her clit for too long, not wanting Aaliyah to cum so quickly. He wanted her to beg for release. The strength of his arms and the feeling of his muscles cutting into her thighs let her know that she had nowhere to run.

Terry’s tongue sank into her pussy and wiggled. Aaliyah yelped a few times when he licked her with precise flicks of his tongue. She couldn’t grind her hips against his tongue, all she could do was lay there on her back and moan his name while dragging her fingers through his short curls.

She lost the signal to her words when he thrust the thick muscle of his mouth inside of her. Letting it sit there for a moment, he felt tremors take over her body and she whimpered loudly. He groaned at the sound, taking delight in breaking her down to his will. She had denied him long enough. She teased him for far too long. Too many times he’d dreamt of doing this to Aaliyah. Stick his tongue so far up her pussy it almost touched her heart. Make this sexy woman cum on his tongue just because. Give her ass the greatest head she’d ever have in her fucking life.

“Don’t move again or I’ll stop.” Terry barked out.

The bass in his voice made her act right, and her body went limp. At that moment, he was just all mouth, tongue. Aaliyah sat up on her elbows, instantly locking eyes with him. She kept her legs open for him and when he leaned back to admire his work she couldn’t believe how soaked and engorged her pussy looked. Terry licked his lips in one swipe before going back in to slurp her up.

“Fuck, you want me to cum all in your mouth…please, can I cum in your mouth, Professor? Can your little slut cum all over your lips?”

Terry responded with precise sucks that had saliva bubbles gathering around his mouth. Aaliyah couldn’t recall EVER getting head like this. She didn’t know whether to cry or to moan. She settled for both. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and suddenly her inner thighs quaked out of her control.

“Mhm…mhm…”

He knew he was the shit. She didn’t even have to tell him. Aaliyah collapsed against the pillows and her thighs closed around Terry’s head as her second orgasm covered his face the more she suffocated him. She pushed at his forehead but he wouldn’t stop.

“Terry, oh my—”

He was spelling his name on that pussy with his tongue.

The way he forced her thighs open. It hurt so good the way he spread her wide to the point of dislocating her hips. His tongue flicked repeatedly over her fat clit and she couldn’t stop him because he made sure her legs remained wide and limber. He would peek up at her in between licks and Aaliyah would lock eyes with him and each time she tip toed closer and closer to yet another cum.

“Terrryyyyyyy…Unh….”

She wasn’t strong enough to close her legs. His tongue weaved a gluttonous pattern over her pussy until he was content. When he finally stopped, Aaliyah curled into a ball. Terry sat up on his knees with his dick in his hand and maybe it was her brain being foggy from her orgasm, but his dick looked bigger than usual.

Terry didn’t even have to tell her what to do. Aaliyah sat up and crawled to him on weak knees. She arched her back and used her mouth only to wrap her lips around his tip. Terry popped Aaliyah on both cheeks with a delicious sting lingering. He finger-combed her long hair from her face and off to one side. Heavy breathing transitioned into deep grunts. Aaliyah sucked with no hands, jaws tight and eyes on him.

She counted the eight pack leading up to prominent pecs and a face that belonged in a museum. He was so pretty she couldn’t look away even if she tried. She did make use of one hand however. She had a handful of his heavy balls while her mouth worked magic. Terry smoothed his hands up her back and over her ass. His fingers sank into the meaty flesh and then he spread her open from behind. Aaliyah whimpered with his dick sitting at the back of her throat.

“Did I tell you to stop?” Terry spoke softly.

He grabbed her hair in his fist to keep her still while he fucked her throat. Spit left his dick glossy and her face and chest a mess.

“Aaliyah, relax your throat for me…”

She did as she was told. The feeling of him touching her uvula made her gag.

“If only you could see the way this dick fit in your mouth…”

One hand on the back of her head, thrusting into her mouth and whimpering the entire time. Aliyah’s tongue slid around his frenulum, making his tip tingle with pleasure. He continuously dripped pre cum and she cleaned it up with slow licks and those sultry eyes that he could get lost in staring up at him.

“Making that shit nasty.” Terry said.

“This dick belongs to me…all of this…”

Aaliyah played with it in her hand, squelching noises from how wet his dick was loud and clear. His balls sat nice and tight and Aaliyah bent forward to suck on those too. She pumped his fat dick while showing his balls some attention.

Terry’s tongue sat on his upper lip as he watched her. His brows snapped together when she returned to his dick with her eager sucking and slurping. He got in that mouth deeper, shivering when he could feel her teasing giggle around him like a vibration.

“Suck that dick…dassit…so sexy…so sexy, Aaliyah…baby…baby, you’re making me cum…shit is so good…fuck! Damn…damn…OH—”

Aaliyah started focusing on his tip and then she swallowed him whole. Terry cradled her head and bent forward, the repeated gawk–gawk of her mouth had him moaning and calling her all types of vulgar names. He felt his control snap and his cum shot from his tip in heavy droplets all over her tongue and chin.

Terry fisted himself to finish, leaning back on one hand while the other pumped the last bit of nut on her wiggling tongue. His knees were aching so he stretched them out before falling back against the sheets. Sweat clung to his skin and his dick sat over his belly button. Aaliyah snuggled closer to him and instantly sleep overtook them.

————

Sit on that dick

Sit-sit on that dick

Sit-sit on that dick, sit on that dick

Sit on that, sit on that, sit on that, sit on that (Alright, Slash)

Beyond their balcony in the early afternoon, the blare of fast-paced, energetic, and call-and-response style hip hop was jarring. It shook the windows and caused Aaliyah to stir awake. She reached one arm over instinctively, and felt nothing but a vacant space and crumbled sheets. She blinked her eyes open, the hotel room with an old world elegance and modern sophistication surrounding her. Wine red, black, and antique accents decorated the king suite.

Her body felt like she’d been put through the most intense workout of her life. Her muscles spasmed whenever she moved. Her pussy was sore to the touch and her clit throbbed. Love bites and bruises on her hips mingled with the beautiful path of stretch marks etched into her skin. She’d never been fucked within an inch of her life before. She’d never known that seeing stars behind her lids when she reached climax would actually happen to her. Sure, a toy can get you there. Yeah, she could recall an eater or two from her past that lacked in the dick department but made up for it with her cum dripping from their insatiable lips.

Terry was on another level. This man quite literally stunned her. He’s outrageously handsome. There’s no way he could be great in bed AND fine as hell. He can’t possibly have the best of both worlds. Yet, somehow, Aaliyah found her fairytale man. The man you dreamt up to deliver wet dreams. The ones in stories. No, Professor Richmond is the embodiment of every woman’s dream. And he wanted Aaliyah all to himself.

She didn’t realize how long she’d been in bed staring up at the ceiling just thinking about him and playing in her hair all sprung until the sound of footsteps entering the room from the hall had her sitting up in bed. Terry caught her eye with a smirk. He was drenched in sweat, an all white T-shirt with the letters CORE UFC GYM on the front in bold font. He was so soaked that the T-shirt molded against his abs and pecs like fresh plaster. He paired it with black shorts that hugged his thighs and accentuated his quads and glutes. Terry removed his AirPods from his ears and kicked off his sneakers at the door.

“Afternoon, baby. Went for a little workout…”

Aaliyah smoothed out her hair and tried to look presentable. It only caused Terry to chuckle.

“You look absolutely beautiful.”

Terry went in for a kiss, his musky scent spicy in her nose. It was pleasant, but Aaliyah backed away before Terry could even savor a kiss.

“What? Do I stink?”

“No, I didn’t brush my teeth.” Aaliyah replied with a sheepish laugh.

“So?”

Aaliyah climbed out of bed, naked body on full display. Terry watched her pin her hair up with a claw clip and then the sway of her hips as she made her way towards the bathroom. He gave her some space to do what she needed to do while he undressed. The cool air from the room made his skin feel clammy because of the sweat. He tossed his things in a bag before checking his phone.

Nothing special, just emails regarding work and a few texts from his mother letting him know they would be in town soon for the wedding. He texted her back quickly before placing his phone on the charger and making his way towards the bathroom. When he entered, Aaliyah was turning on the shower. It was a standing shower with black tiles and a detachable shower head. It was wide enough to fit both of them comfortably. On the sink, she had her own soap and so did Terry.

“Mind if I join you?” Terry asked as he cracked the door so it wouldn’t get too steamy.

“Not at all. Figured you’d want to anyway.”

Aaliyah placed a shower cap over her hair and entered the shower. Terry stepped in behind her, taking careful steps. He jumped back slightly from the temperature of the water. Aaliyah giggled and Terry sucked his teeth before reaching over her to turn the temperature of the water down.

“Tryna burn my skin off.” Terry fussed.

“Hush,” Aaliyah had an exfoliating cloth in hand and she applied unscented soap to it first, “Wash me.”

“Please?” Terry snatched the rag and gave Aaliyah a teasing look with an arched brow.

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

She pouted her lips and Terry couldn’t help but smile at how adorable she looked.

“Aight, face me.”

Terry ran the cloth over her soft, blemish free skin in a circular motion. Aaliyah giggled when he brought the cloth over her ears. He locked eyes with her and then he couldn’t help but to lean in and peck the tip of her nose. He turned her around and tapped her on the booty for good measure.

“Just can’t help yourself.”

“Phat–phat on you and you expect me to behave?”

Aaliyah laughed, “I do, actually.”

“Says you? Baby ima feel up on this ass whenever I want.”

He dragged the cloth down the dip in her spine and over both hefty cheeks. He cleaned throughly, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t do it on purpose. Terry had her cakes jiggling when he washed her off in between. Aaliyah gasped, reaching back to grab his wrist.

“You play too much!”

Terry laughed and it was the most pleasant sound. He smiled with his entire face, making his nose scrunch up. He had the goofiest laugh and it made Aaliyah smile from ear to ear. He gave her a second cleanse with a vanilla bean body wash, the smell permeating the air and it was strong and fragrant.

Terry rinsed the rag and applied some wash for her pussy. Aaliyah watched him reach around from behind and gently scrub her outer lips. Aaliyah tilted her hips back, pressing her butt into his crotch and she grabbed onto his bicep. Terry watched his movements from over her shoulder. When he was satisfied, he rinsed the rag and hung it on the railing of the glass shower door before using his hand to gather water in between her lower lips.

“You ain’t slick.”

“Who said I was being slick?”

Terry’s fingers rubbed slow circles against her clit. Aaliyah responded to his massage with a soft moan. Terry peppered kisses along her wet neck and even licked her there, the smell of vanilla filling his nose.

“It don’t make no gahdamn sense how fucking fine you are…”

He pushed two fingers up in her and Aaliyah rose to her tip toes. Terry is a strong man, he could probably lift her up between her legs with one arm and toss her on his shoulder. She wondered how much weight he could squat and bench press. Aaliyah made a mental note to go to the gym with Terry sometime just so she could see for herself.

“You hear me?”

“Yes,” Aaliyah replied barely above a whisper.

She could feel his big dick twitching against her ass.

“Wet ass pussy…ain’t been in this pussy with my fingers for that long and already you’re soaked…good fuckin’ girl…”

Aaliyah tilted her head back and Terry sucked her bottom lip into his mouth before their tongues slithered. She whimpered against his lips and Terry had to circle her trim waist with his muscular arm to keep her still.

“Aaliyah…”

The way he said her name against her lips. She could have melted. He was so head over heels for her.

“You can’t get enough of me,” Aaliyah spoke against his lips, “I drive you crazy.”

She reached back and captured his hefty dick between her fingers and started stroking. Terry abruptly turned her around with his fingers still inside. Aaliyah used both hands to jerk him while they tongue kissed.

“I ain’t been this pussy whipped ever.”

Aaliyah broke this kiss and pressed her face against Terry’s chest, laughing. He laughed along with her.

“That’s what I want. I want you to be so far gone over all of me, big daddy…”

Terry’s dick responded with quick pulses in her hand and a leaky tip. She gripped his fingers tight and when he curled them to stimulate her spot, Aaliyah could feel her stomach tighten. She was going to cum.

“That pussy cumming, huh?…what you want?”

Aaliyah nibbled on Terry’s chest between moans. He reached around and popped her on the ass. She flinched against him.

“Please, make me cum, big daddy…”

Terry held her close as the feeling became too strong and intense. She had a vice grip on his fingers and she threw her head back, exposing her neck for him to attack with his lips. Her body trembled and eventually she went limp against him. He painted her face with kisses until she was back to herself.

“You have a lot of skill, Sir.”

She had a sleepy look in her eyes. One hand on his dick, she lazily stroked him.

“I aim to please…”

Terry reached for his own cloth and handed it to Aaliyah. She looked down at his hand and couldn’t help but to laugh. She snatched it from his hand and Aaliyah washed Terry down once with Dove sensitive skin soap. She squeezed soap over his chest, watching the suds and the water slide down and over the peaks and valleys of his well–muscled body. She craned her neck to meet his gaze, the cloth in her hand giving his skin the perfect touch. He couldn’t help but to smirk at her.

When she got to his dick—which she saved for last—Aaliyah dropped the cloth over it and broke out in a laughing fit. He was so stiff. Terry shook his head at her silliness before removing the cloth and handing it back to her. Aaliyah grabbed his Salt & Stone body wash with notes of Sandalwood, Cedar, Vetiver, and Cardamom. She repeated her steps and when she got back to his dick, she stood behind him and wrapped a hand around him.

Terry planted his hands against the shower wall beneath the shower head. The water cascaded down his back and over his shoulders and hair. Aaliyah looked like a little person compared to him. She kissed his spine while her hand worked magic. With a twist of her wrist she would go from base to tip. She cupped his balls in her other hand and rolled them gently.

“This a lot of dick,” Aaliyah spoke with a seductive voice, “And all of this is mine? Hm?”

“Fuck, yes,” Terry raised his head, water rolling down his face, “All yours…”

“All mine to suck on?”

Aaliyah squeezed his balls with enough pressure to make his dick bounce in her hand.

“Yes, baby…”

“And to fuck?”

Aaliyah kissed his lat muscles with tender lips that made his hips jerk.

“Fuck on this dick, baby…”

He sounded so sexy. Aaliyah could feel her clit aching from his deep groans.

“I plan to…as soon as we get out this shower…”

Aaliyah let go of his balls and slapped the weight of his dick in her hand. Terry’s back muscles flexed.

“Yeah…nice and hard for me to bounce on…”

“You’re so nasty…” Terry spoke with a quiver in his voice.

She let go of his dick and watched as it swung from side to side. Her pussy was literally convulsing just thinking about him deep inside of her again. Aaliyah left Terry to wash his face and he gave her a look that told her he wasn’t happy about her stopping. He needed her and she couldn’t wait to give her pussy over to him again. She grabbed her towel to do a quick dry but Terry was out the shower and behind her so fast.

“Terry—”

“Shut the fuck up and bend over.”

Aaliyah’s back stiffened at his abrasive voice. She grabbed onto the double sink and stared straight ahead into the slightly foggy glass. Terry bent her over and brought one of her legs up to rest on the sink. He pushed down on the middle of her back hard and snatched off her shower cap. He spread one cheek and with his tip aimed at her wet hole he thrusted up in one motion.

“Terry, what the fuck?!”

Aaliyah felt as if she’d been split open. He grabbed her upper arms with firm hands and drilled her with harsh blows that had her ass moving like a tidal wave and her hair in her face. She reached one hand up and it slid down the mirror, the condensation dripping. She could see his face. Jaw tight. Eyes on her. Chin tucked. Lip between his teeth. Terry let go of her arms and grabbed her waist. He widened his stance and dug in her so deep her eyes crossed.

“Bet you feel that in your gut. Mhm. This how I’m fuckin’ my pussy. Right?!”

“YEAH!” Aaliyah shouted.

“Tugging on my shit,” Terry watched the way Aaliyah’s pussy yanked on him each time he pulled back to the tip, “Gawd…pussy so good…”

Aaliyah’s face fell into the bowl of one of the sinks. Her lips formed a silent ‘O’ and her eyes shut tightly.

“Aaliyah don’t piss me off.”

She couldn’t keep her leg up. And Terry wasn’t having it.

“Aight,” he withdrew his hips and picked Aaliyah up. He sat her on the edge of the sink and positioned her legs over his shoulders while his hands cuffed her ass to keep her steady and on that dick. He locked eyes with her and slipped back inside like he never left. She clawed his chest, grabbed onto the sink, gripped his arms, put a hand around his neck. Nothing stopped him from putting a hurting so good on her pussy.

“Shit! Oh noooo!” She watched his dick go in and out as if she were petrified by how fat and long he is, “I’m a cum! It’s so big! Terry! FUCK! Oh my god…ohh…”

Terry held his face against her neck and pulled her into a tight hug. His hips collided with her thighs with sharp thrusts. Aaliyah circled her arms around his neck and cried into his ear. Her toes curled under and Terry had to pick her up in the air when she almost slipped. Their shared breaths of over exertion echoed off of the bathroom walls. Terry’s entire body burned. He walked with Aaliyah in his arms and his dick buried deep, leaving the bathroom and entering the room again.

Terry placed Aaliyah on her back and continued fucking the shit out of her. Her perky breasts were pointed towards his face and he couldn’t help but suck her nipples in turn.

“Fuuuck,” Aaliyah moaned.

He used her flexibility against her and spread her legs all the way up to where his hands were locking her ankles in place. He dropped down at a measured speed into her pussy with an intense look on his face and deep grunts. A creamy ring formed at the base of his dick and it got so messy that his dick would slip out. He slapped her clit with it and plunged back in.

“You see this? Look at how I’m fucking you, Aaliyah.”

She watched with shiny eyes. Terry delivered quick thrusts before slowing back down. Aaliyah looked up at him and he looked at her with a smirk on his face.

“It’s so much dick…”

“I’m giving you what’s yours. I thought you loved big dick?”

Aaliyah pushed at Terry’s abs. He slapped her hand away.

“You know you wanna squirt on me.” Terry teased.

Aaliyah circled her belly with her arms to fight the feeling that formed in the pit of her stomach. Tears rolled down into her hair and Terry bent down to kiss her lips.

“Cum, baby…just like that…uh-huh,” Terry spoke against her lips, “Come on, my pretty Aaliyah…give daddy all that…that’s my girl…right there…”

Aaliyah sprung a leak. And Terry fucked her through it. He sat back on his knees to admire his work. Her inner thighs were soaked. She drenched his abs. Cream coated her inner folds and leaked to the crack of her ass.

Terry got down and licked her clean.

“Daddy, you didn’t cum yet…”

Terry looked up at her.

“What should we do about that, huh?”

Aaliyah smiled at him.

“Get up here.” She commanded.

Terry made his way onto the bed and on his back. Aaliyah straddled him. She leaned forward and with her eyes connected with his, she fit him inside of her and slowly lowered until he completely fit. Feet flat on the bed, Aaliyah bounced. Terry had a handful of titties as he watched her. Her hair had curled up around the edges, giving her a wilder look.

“Look at you go,” Terry thumbed her clit, “Show me who this dick belong to.”

Aaliyah trapped Terry’s hand to stop him from rubbing her clit. He chuckled, prying her thighs open.

“I don’t see you getting down on this dick. All the way down, Aaliyah.”

She paused, sinking to her knees and arching her back. Aaliyah resumed bouncing, looking back at her ass.

“Ride me. Ride Daddy,” Terry barked, “Fuck yourself on Daddy’s dick. Lemme slut yo’ pretty ass out. I’m a take care of that pussy real good. Anytime, baby.”

Terry slapped the hell out of Aaliyah’s ass. It jiggled with so much force from his large palm. She just knew he left a hand print.

Aaliyah dropped that pussy on him. She leaned forward and rode his thickness like she was bucking on a mechanical bull. Terry whimpered from her pussy clenching and releasing him as she rocked. Her thick cheeks clapped against his thighs and slammed down on his balls. And all he could do was give her ass a pop. His grunts and groans and heavy moans continued the more she fucked him.

“Aaliyah, FUCK…”

She wrapped a small hand around his neck and threw her head back.

“I feel you…inside me…harder…”

Terry couldn’t hold back any longer. He fucked up as Aaliyah came down. His heels dug into the bed, trying his hardest to give her a deep dick down. She bounced with speedy delight, smiling down at Terry between moans.

“YES! Yesyesyesyesyesyes!”

Aaliyah rode his ass through the mattress and Terry planted his hands on her hips.

“I’m finna nut—”

“Cum for me, Big Daddy! All in your pussy!”

“Dammit, Aaliyah—”

Terry came with a hoarse shout and Aaliyah giggled with glee. His dick remained hard after his orgasm. Aaliyah pressed her body against his and raked her hand down his chest while whispering nasty things in his ear.

“You cum so much…I love the way you fill my pussy up.”

Terry sat up and kissed Aaliyah with her in his lap and his dick still inside. Their tongues made a happy dance deep in each other’s mouths. Terry palmed her ass, not ashamed to let her know that he loved it. He was weak for a phat ass.

“I love the way your dick makes me cum…”

Terry smirked against her lips.

—————

After all the sex, Aaliyah and Terry freshened up again and made their way out onto Bourbon Street for lunch. They walked hand in hand, Aaliyah wearing a pair of denim shorts that fit tight and stretched over her ass as if they were painted on. She paired it with some mules with a low heel and a fitted T-shirt that she tied into a knot at the front. She sported a pair of retro shades in a gradient blue color and kept her hair pinned up with a claw clip. As they strolled, her heels click–clacking against the concrete, she swung her small, cyan Telfar bag that matched the floral design printed on the front of her shirt. Large, silver hoops decorated her ears and she kept it simple with a think, silver necklace and silver bangles.

Terry wore a faded, orange T-shirt with his old high school logo printed on the front. Light wash jeans with slight rips were on his lower half, and he pulled the look together with a pair of all white, Nike Air Max 90s. He wore a silver, micro cuban around his neck and a matching silver watch on his left wrist. He too wore shades, a pair of all black aviators.

They settled on Mambo’s, a festive oasis offering locals and visitors alike a re-energizing escape from the strip clubs, cover bands and daiquiri shops outside. Located in the heart of the French Quarter, the welcoming gravity of the towering three-story building invites you to explore what lies beyond its French doors.

A hostess led them to the very top of the building, seating them at a high top overlooking the open patio doors that led to a sunny outdoor eating sanctuary. The sun was shining too bright and the heat was too intense to sit directly beneath it. Zydeco music titillated their ears. Their waiter trickled over after five minutes with an upbeat personality and her hair styled in bright red box braids.

“How ya’ll doin? Welcome to Mambo’s. I’m Dasia. Can I start ya’ll off with sum to drank?”

Aaliyah turned to Dasia, “I’ll have a water with lemon and also…I’d like to try your passion punch.”

“It’s got Bumbu Rum, Don Q & Don Q Passion Fruit with fresh fruit juices. That okay?”

“I’m okay wit’ it.” Aaliyah replied.

“How ‘bout you?”

“A water with lemon as well. And I’ll do a draft beer…uhh…Abita Amber.”

“Okay…ready to order appetizers or ya’ll need a minute?”

“A minute.” Terry responded.

“I’ll be back wit’ ya drinks.”

Dasia walked away as Aaliyah flipped through the menu.

“I definitely want some oysters.”

“We can do that. Know what you wanna eat?”

“I was eyeing this blackened red fish…”

“That looks good,” Terry stroked his goatee, “I’ll probably do a po’ boy. A shrimp one.”

Aaliyah crossed her legs beneath the table. Terry reached over to caress her knee. Aaliyah flashed him a smile and blew him a kiss.

“I have to figure out what I’m going to wear to the wedding.” Aaliyah mentioned, swinging a pretty foot beneath the table.

“Terry looked over at her through his lashes, “Need me to buy you something?”

“Maybe,” Aaliyah pushed her shades up to rest on top of her head, “What are the colors?”

“It’s Tiffany Blue.”

“Hmm…maybe I could do a blue dress? But not exactly the same color?”

“That’s a good idea. Would have to search today though.”

“It’s okay. I think I have a dress in mind. My closet is full of clothes for any occasion.”

Dasia returned with their drinks. Terry ordered oysters and decided to wait to order the entrees until they were finished.

“Your parents are coming in town?” Aaliyah asked.

“Yeah, they’ll be here the day before.”

Aaliyah sampled her drink. It was perfectly sweet. Terry sipped his beer, licking his lips after.

“Do you see them often?”

“Nah. Not as much as I would love to. I try to see them twice a year. We talk almost every day though. My dad has health issues, something with his heart. It’s a hereditary thing. My grand father passed away from cardiac failure.”

“Sorry to hear that. I’m sure that’s scary with it being hereditary.”

“It is. That’s why I keep myself healthy and visit my primary care and cardiologist as often as I can. I’m all good though.” Terry reassured.

“Anything you wanna warn me about before I meet them?”

Terry chuckled, “My parents would love you, Aaliyah. You ain’t got nothing to worry about.”

“…do they want grandchildren?”

Terry drank some of his beer down. He gave Aaliyah a one-shoulder shrug.

“They do. They don’t pressure me ‘bout it. One day.”

Aaliyah smiled softly at him.

“Let me try your drink,” Terry held out his hand for Aaliyah to pass her drink over.

She watched him sample her drink and his eye brows ticked up with excitement.

“Oh that’s good. Perfectly mixed. A couple more of those and you gon’ be tore up.”

“Sounds good. But I want shots.”

“Later,” Terry shook his head.

“Whyyyy?”

“Stop whining,” Terry leaned forward to pop Aaliyah on her hip, “You don’t need that right now. When I take you out to dance later you can have all the shots you want.”

Aaliyah rolled her eyes and lowered her shades over them. She stuck her tongue out at Terry and he tilted his head at her and curled a finger for her to come closer. Aaliyah leaned in, her ass poked out. If anyone walked by, they would be able to see how the denim fabric outlined the shape of her pussy from the back and how the edges dug into her legs sinfully.

Terry cupped her chin and got so close to her face their noses touched.

“No means no. Fix your face. This the only time I’ma tell you.” Terry warned.

He let go and Aaliyah took her time sitting back. The oysters arrived and she forgot all about Terry’s words when the smell of melted garlic butter wafted her nose. They both tucked into their food after ordering their entrees.

“It’s so quiet. That’s how you know we were starving.”

Terry gave Aaliyah a playful smile, “burned too many calories.” Terry’s shoulders bounced as he laughed.

“How am I supposed to keep up with you?!” Aaliyah whisper–yelled.

“Says the woman that can hit a split from the top of the pole to the floor.” Terry blew out air and rolled his eyes, calling her bluff.

“Shut up,” Aaliyah kicked him under the table.

She finished her drink off and swayed her hips to the music. Dasia sauntered over and offered to give her another drink. Aaliyah happily accepted.

“How much can you squat?”

Terry licked butter from his lips and flashed Aaliyah a handsome smile.

“Depends. If I’m being spotted, about four hundred. Alone? I can do about fifty pounds less.”

“Dayum,” Aaliyah giggled at how loud she said that, “no wonder why you like to pick me up so much.”

Terry’s eyes crinkled as he laughed.

“You somethin’ else, girl.”

“And you love it.” Aaliyah sassed with her light and flirty voice.

“I do.”

Terry reached beneath the table and brought Aaliyah’s feet in his lap. He stroked the tops of her feet while sipping his beer, never taking his eyes off of her.

“You’re so attentive it’s intense,” Aaliyah blinked away from his face when Dasia returned with another drink, letting them know that their food will be out shortly, “You gotta stop looking at me like that, it’s making me wet.” She whined.

Terry stroked his bottom lip with his thumb before biting it.

“Not with those ‘come fuck me’ eyes on you, ma.”

Aaliyah swirled her straw around her drink as she bat her lashes at Terry. The table rumbled from Aaliyah’s phone vibrating with an incoming notification, she grabbed her phone and flipped it over. Terry downed the last of his beer and placed the glass on the table, tapping his chest with the side of his fist after releasing a muffled burp.

“Excuse me…”

Aaliyah appeared bothered by whatever was on her phone. Terry furrowed his brows at her change of demeanor. He watched her exhale and her shoulders collapse.

“Everything okay?”

Aaliyah gave him a phony smile, “Yeah.”

“You look like you just got the worse news of your life.” Terry chuckled, despite his sudden worry for her, “Talk to me.”

Aaliyah seemed to veil her true emotions with yet another beautiful smile.

“Nothing! Just got a reminder about an upcoming exam I have yet to study for. This semester has been kicking my ass.”

From the way the corners of her mouth wrinkled as she reached for her drink, Terry knew that something troubled her. And it wasn’t anything to do with a curriculum.

“You’re almost there, baby. Before you know it, you’ll be a college graduate. Can’t wait to see you walk across the stage.”

She gave Terry a timid smile while swirling her ice around her glass with her straw, “I was ready to give up so many times. You don’t even know.”

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. It’s not about perfect, it’s about effort. You bring that effort every single day in my class and I’m sure in your other classes. That’s where transformation happens. You trusted yourself and now look.”

Aaliyah appeared delighted by Terry’s words and whatever previously attempted to anger her, suddenly disappeared.

“You’re so sweet, Terry. Where have you been all my life?”

“Maybe if I hadn’t moved to Fayetteville I’d still be here. I would have fallen for the majorette girl with the pretty smile and long hair.”

“And I still wouldn’t have made it easy for you.” Aaliyah teased.

“If you ain’t notice by now, I love a challenge.”

Her merry laugh made him laugh.

“Another Abita Amber?”

Terry handed over his empty beer glass and grabbed the new one, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to Dasia. Before she could walk away, their food was on its way over on a serving tray. The spices wafted Aaliyah’s nose and her stomach instantly grumbled. Terry had a loaded po’ boy in front of him with perfected deep fried shrimp spilling over the top of the flaky sub roll. He squeezed it with his fingers, a satisfying crunch sound following. Aaliyah forked the flaky red fish and leaned in to smell the garlic mashed potatoes and collard greens.

Terry didn’t waste time eating. His mouth opened wide and he took a big bite out of his po’ boy, mayo painting the side of his lips. Aaliyah reached forward and thumbed away the mess on his face, sucking it off her thumb with a smirk. Terry chuckled at her with so much admiration in his greenish–hazel eyes. He shared some of his shrimp with her and Aaliyah fed him so collards. Two drinks in, and she was already feeling tipsy. She couldn’t help but giggle at anything Terry said.

“What’s funny now?” Terry questioned with an exasperated smile.

“Those big ears of yours.”

“HA,” Terry leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, “So, you got jokes?”

“They’re so cute. I love them.”

“That squeaky laugh you got, sounding like a chipmunk.” Terry quipped.

Aaliyah tossed a crumbled napkin at him that Terry caught in his hand.

“You know you love my laugh!”

“It’s music to my ears, mon amour.”

She beamed at him.

———

The spot they were going to wasn’t far from their hotel but Terry still wanted to drive just in case anything popped off. Aaliyah slid into the passenger seat and Terry shut the door behind her. She decided to wear the same stilettos from their romantic dinner date and she paired it with a skin tight, body con dress that left nothing to the imagination with its sheer, glittery material. Terry had to help her into the dress. Aaliyah painted her lips fire engine red and her hair fell over her shoulders and to the middle of her back. She touched up her edges and added a little pomade to ensure she didn’t sweat them out.

Terry was dressed in a cream colored polo with sleeves that fit snugly around his biceps. The first few buttons were undone, giving a peek at his gold, micro cuban link. He paired it with snug black slacks and black loafers. This random spot they decided on had a dress code of no sneakers, sandals, and athletic wear. Aaliyah had to do some social media digging to find the perfect spot that catered to black people and played black music.

Terry wanted a live band at first but Aaliyah insisted that she wanted to shake ass to trap music and pussy rap. Aaliyah needed some tissue to clean up a little lipstick. She opened Terry’s glove compartment and sitting right before her eyes like a beacon light was a Glock 19. Terry settled into the drivers seat and Aaliyah shut the glove compartment quickly.

Terry glanced over at her, before his eyes fell to the glove compartment. Aaliyah looked at him with a slight smile and nervous eyes. Terry reached over and opened the glove compartment, the pistol right where he’d left it.

“You needed something outta here?” Terry questioned.

“Just some tissue,” Aaliyah replied softly.

Terry shifted things around until he found a box of Kleenex. He handed it over to Aaliyah before tucking his pistol away so it wouldn’t be visible.

“Sorry ‘bout that, baby.”

“It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting to see that there.”

Terry started up his car while Aaliyah busied herself with making sure her makeup was perfect.

“If you feel uncomfortable with it there—”

“It’s okay, Terry,” Aaliyah glanced over at him with a laugh, “It’s actually kinda sexy.”

Terry elevated a brow and slowly his lips turned up into a smile.

“I bet you look sexy when you shoot.”

“Don’t boost my ego now,” Terry chuckled, “I could show you sometime? Take you to the range.”

“I always wanted to go.” Aaliyah replied with excitement.

“Then I’ll take you. It’s a date.”

“So, camping,” Aaliyah counted off on her fingers, “The gun range…”

“And many more.”

They locked eyes and Terry reached over to rest his hand on her thigh. He stroked it with his thumb.

“Almost there, about ten more minutes.”

Aaliyah grabbed Terry’s hand and slipped it between her legs. Good thing they were at a red light. He looked at her with a bite of his bottom lip. His fingers grazed bare pussy lips.

“Oh, you’re in trouble. You’re in trouble.”

Aaliyah giggled to herself. Terry was dead serious.

“This dress barely covers that ass and you decide to wear no panties? You serious?”

“I thought I was you nasty little slut?” Aaliyah replied with a bat of her lashes as she twirled hair around her finger with faux innocence.

“I’m a have to keep a close eye on you. Let some nigga find out you ain’t got nothing on up under there.”

“Isn’t that what makes it fun? And I’m yours, remember?”

Terry’s jaw clenched. His hand tightened on the steering wheel. He adjusted his hips in the seat and gave Aaliyah one penetrating look that shook her core.

“Be a brat if you want to, Aaliyah.”

Aaliyah spread her legs to show Terry just how good her pussy looked. He gave in and looked down between her legs. He huffed with a shake of his head.

“What was that about being a brat again?” Aaliyah replied with a teasing smile.

“Damn, that pussy look good…”

“Here,” Aaliyah touched herself and gathered some of her wetness on her fingertips, “You wanna taste?”

Eyes still on the rode, Aaliyah rubbed her pussy juice all over Terry’s lips. He grabbed her hand and sucked on her fingers. Aaliyah watched Terry lick his lips.

“That should hold you over until later. I plan to sit on that pretty face of yours.”

“And I’ll happily be your favorite seat for as long as I’m living and breathing, baby.” Terry responded with a hand to his chest and an enduring smile.

They finally pull up to the nightclub. Some spot tucked away beneath a tangled freeway and overlooking an outstretched parking lot. Cars, trucks, motorcycles; any form of transportation looked oddly placed in various spots with empty spaces in between. Terry reversed into a spot to the left of the entrance.

A lineup of club-goers waited to get inside. Some people lingered on the fringes or smoked whatever enhanced their vibes. Terry hopped out and made his way around to open Aaliyah’s door. He stood in front of her while she took her time raising from her seat since her dress had ridden up. Terry’s dour eyes never left her face. He held out his hand and before Aaliyah could walk away he gripped her hand tighter. Aaliyah watched as Terry checked her out from behind, ensuring that her dress covered her ass. She giggled at his fixed gaze and he popped her on the ass to silence her. Wasn’t shit funny.

Ubers and Lyfts dropping people off at the curb. Two Beefy bouncers checking IDs and turning people away, refusing to argue with them. Each time the doors opened, Strobe lights were pulsing from inside. Terry had a hand on Aaliyah’s waist as he guided her to the back of the line that grew smaller and smaller. Aaliyah’s stomach fluttered when Terry placed her directly in front of him and wrapped his arms around her waist.

She peered up at him, a drastic height difference between them even with her heels. He caught her staring and gave her a furtive look with a soft smile. The stiffness of his shoulders and the snug hold he had on her let her know Terry was on go for anybody that so much as looked at her, breathed her air, or touched her.

That brought her back to the bachelor party. The way he almost broke that man’s wrist. The glint in his eyes. The unblinking stare and stolid expression. There was no doubt in Aaliyah’s mind that Terry could do damage. He didn’t play about her. She bounced in his arms, her booty cheeks clapping against his crotch to entice him. She could hear a bounce mix from inside the club.

The line pushed forward and when they made it to the front, Terry released Aaliyah so she could sift through her bag and grab her ID. They displayed it to the bouncers and then the pitch black door opened, a blazing heat billowing out along with the stench of hookah smoke and alcohol. They were ushered inside, Terry’s hand on her back as they disappeared beyond the doors.

Dim lighting.

Black speakers and a stage.

Bars with seating and an area of small round tables and stools.

Waitresses dressed skimpily with glowing trays of drinks or carrying empty bottles and glasses back to the bar.

A row of shot glasses being filled one by one.

Bartenders rushing to keep up with orders.

Bottles of alcohol lining a mirrored wall behind the bartender.

Bins with lemon and lime wedges, cherries, and other garnishes.

Multicolored straws, empty beer cans and bottles, sprayers and beer taps.

Sinks loaded with ice.

Carefully layered drinks in martini glasses.

Coffee mugs and highball glasses.

Spilled drinks on the floor and wet marks on the bar.

A line at the bathroom.

A dance floor packed like sardines and a DJ booth surrounded by men.

Birdman and Lil Wayne– Stuntin’ Like My Daddy had the whole place jumping off. The loud bass and booming speakers vibrated their inner ears as they cased out the spot to find seating. A drunk couple stumbled from a table shrouded in a faint magenta lighting from an overhead lamp. Terry ushered Aaliyah over quickly before anyone else. As they approached, a waitress covered in barely anything sauntered over to snatch up the used Hookah. She noticed Terry and Aaliyah approaching and gave them a smile before doing a quick and effective wipe of the table. Terry dipped his head as a ‘thank you’ before helping Aaliyah into her seat.

Terry settled across from her and leaned in to speak with her over the loud music.

“You want me to get you a drink?!”

“Please!” Aaliyah shouted back, “Two shots of chilled Patron and whatever else!”

“Aight,” Terry left his seat but before he disappeared into the sea of sweaty, dancing people, he gave Aaliyah a look and gestured for her to call him if anything pops off.

“I’ll be fine, Terry! I’ll be right here waiting!”

Terry walked off, gently pushing past people to get to the bar. Aaliyah swayed her hips in her seat, her legs looking shiny and glazed beneath the lights. The song switched up to Gucci Mane- On Deck and as Aaliyah watched the dance floor, she noticed a group of men strolling and throwing up hooks. An eruption of cheers drowned out the music the more they moved in sync.

Meanwhile, Terry was leaning against the bar, his hazel eyes searching. A young woman with sandy brown locs that touched her waist and an all black body con dress on that hugged her plush waist and wide hips made direct eye contact with Terry. She stepped around another bartender to get to him.

“How you doin’ tonight! What can I get you?”

“I’ll take four shots of patron! And uhhh…get me a lemon drop but with patron instead of vodka.”

“COMING UP!”

She winked at Terry before working on his drinks. Terry glanced over towards the table and all he could see was Aaliyah’s legs peeking out.

“Do you need help carrying these drinks?! We can bring it over!”

“Yeah, could you? We’re at that table over there,” Terry pointed out where they were seated, “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! I’ll have one of our girls bring it over!”

Terry gave her a thumbs up before paying cash for the drinks and leaving a tip. Turning, he started cutting through the sea of people until he felt a hand grip his arm. Terry turned and looked down into the eyes of a random chick that he damn sure didn’t know or recognize. Politely prying her hand off, he continued towards the table. Once there, he noticed a man trying to make conversation with Aaliyah.

“Hey,” Terry approached with charged energy, “Can I help you with something?”

The man stood at about 6’0 with an airbrushed hairline and a crudy ‘fro. Fake diamonds dangled from his neck, wrists, and fingers. He wore his skinny jeans below his ass and a graphic T-shirt with a classic rock band he most likely didn’t know a thing about was two sizes too small on him. He sized Terry up with the whites of his eyes red.

“This yours, Playa?”

Terry blinked at the man with a deadpan expression before tilting his head around to check on Aaliyah, a flare in his eyes.

“Did he say something to you?”

“He can’t catch a hint,” Aaliyah replied with furrowed brows.

He could see the tension in her body and the discomfort in her eyes. Terry straightened up and his eyes flicked down at the man, glaring at him. The man somehow began to understand the severity of his situation if he so much as sad another word out of line.

“Off limits, my fault bruh,” He brought his hands up in surrender, “Don’t want no trouble, Big Dude. You got a fine lady. I was just giving her a compliment.”

The man left like a fire had been lit under his feet. Terry’s hard, unwavering eyes tracked the movements of the man until he was nowhere in sight. Aaliyah grabbed him by the hand and stroked his skin. She smoothed her fingers over the protruding veins in his hand and up his arm. Terry finally pulled his gaze away and looked down at her.

“Sit. He’s gone.”

Terry moved leisurely until he settled across from Aaliyah. The same waitress that cleaned the table minutes prior came over to greet them and placed their drinks on the table.

“Thank you,” Terry slid two shots and a lemon drop over to Aaliyah, “Why didn’t you call my phone?”

“He had just shown up when you walked over, Terry.”

Aaliyah grabbed Terry’s hand and leaned forward. She blinked at him slowly while kissing his fingertips.

“Relax,” she brushed his fingers along her cheek and down her throat before fitting his fingers around it, “I’m yours…and you’re mine. I don’t want another man but you…another dick but yours…”

Even over the music loud enough to burst your tympanic membrane, Terry caught on to every word and gripped her neck a little tighter. He pressed his thumb against her pulse point, watching as Aaliyah’s sultry lips parted and a slight gasp echoed across the table.

“I love how crazy your eyes get when you’re ready to fuck a nigga up,” Aaliyah dropped her eyes to stare at Terry’s lips.

“Your fault, baby. I don’t play about you…”

Terry let go and his jaw clenched as he raised a shot glass to toast with Aaliyah. They clinked glasses, tapped it on the table, and drowned it in one gulp. Aaliyah grimaced and Terry’s face remained stern with probing eyes. Aaliyah pressed her lips together and clenched her inner thighs to suppress the throbbing sensation in her clit. She trained her eyes to stay locked on his even through the intensity. His prolonged gaze created a heat that tickled her flesh and the beginning effects of the alcohol didn’t help calm her arousal.

Aaliyah teased her red lips with the tip of her tongue before gliding it between her teeth to entice him. She flicked up a single brow suggestively, letting him know that she was enjoying their little game of staring at each other to see who would look away first. Terry sat back and folded his arms over his chest, his hands gripping his biceps on either side. He cocked his head to the left and his bottom lip slowly dragged between his teeth.

Feeling bold, Aaliyah brought her fingers to the top of her dress, gliding them over the top of her dress. Her girls sat up and a mountain of cleavage teased him. Terry’s eyes slanted, a sign that he was turned on. Aaliyah giggled at his lack of control before revealing her left breast. She glanced around quickly before her eyes were back on him, pinching her stiff nipple before covering herself back up again.

Aaliyah snickered at Terry being slack-jawed.

“I win,” Aaliyah bounced in her seat with glee before bringing her lemon drop to her lips, “Better luck next time, huh?”

Terry gave Aaliyah a debonair smile, “You don’t play fair at all.”

Haha, bitch, I’m big dude

Phew, phew, phew, frrrt

Haha, phew, phew, phew, bitch, I’m big dude…

Terry chuckled at Aaliyah throwing her hands up and giving her seat some attention with that beautiful ass of hers. She moved her hips in a circle and stuck her tongue out. Terry listened to this song often in the gym. The vulgar Memphis Rapper with his cocky lyrics and a nasty beat had the walls rattling. It was banging hardcore and Terry couldn’t help but make his shoulders jump and sway his head in time to the beat.

“Let’s dance!”

Aaliyah was out of her seat and between Terry’s legs in an instant. She spun around and arched her back, plopped down on his lap and rocked her barely covered ass on his crotch. Terry shifted his body to face her from behind and he gripped her hips as he stood. Terry surged his crotch against Aaliyah’s ass with so much force that she almost stumbled forward. Her eyes sought his, and Terry simply smiled at her.

It was hard to really groove with so many people around them but Aaliyah’s gregarious personality and spunky attitude somehow made others clear the way to give her room to pop out. Big Boog’s voice and energy on the trap song had Aaliyah giving Terry a performance he was happy to see but also the possessive side of him clocked the hungry eyes of other men. Aaliyah bent over and grabbed her ankles, gyrating her thick cheeks all on his clothed dick. The weight of her backside colliding with his third leg had him groaning under his breath.

The distant voices ehoing dayum and whew shit had Terry craning his neck to see who was speaking on his woman and her acrobatic skills.

His. Terry loved the sound of that.

She tossed that ass back on him and he made sure his dick remained tucked between. His big hands had a vice grip on her hips. Aaliyah lifted, turned, and shimmied her hips to fix her dress. She pressed the front of her body against his and Terry rocked his hips to match hers. Reaching around, Terry double cuffed Aaliyah’s booty and she brought her hands to his waist.

Her hips started moving in a slow whine and Terry pressed his forehead against hers with a slight smirk painted on his lush lips. Already he could feel himself sweating. The DJ switched back to some bounce music and Aaliyah jumped back into an energetic twerk that Terry could keep up with. Aaliyah had her hands on her knees and made that ass clap at an uptempo that had Terry bending his knees to thrust his hips against her.

Everyone on that dance floor were practically body to body. Cheap cologne, fruity perfume, Paul Masson, sweat, and not so pleasant aromas circulated the humid air. The strobe lights covered the entire club in blue light. Terry placed his hands on Aaliyah’s shoulders while she continued to pop that pussy on him. She looked back at him, hair in her face, drenched, and her dress past her ass. She stood tall and made her cheeks bounce and Terry grabbed onto her wrists, holding her hands in the air.

“You’re the best fuckin’ dancer I ever seen,” Terry licked the shell of Aaliyah’s ear, “Got that shit moving.”

“Glad you can keep up with me, Professor.”

The music slowed down after a few more mixes and Twista-Wetter started playing, some people cleared the dance floor and returned to the bar while others went on a restroom break. Terry led Aaliyah closer to their table and then her turned her back towards him. One hand slithered around and pressed between her legs while the other stroked her waist. Aaliyah followed his two-step, her eyes closed as the lyrics started.

callin' ya daddy, daddy

Can you be my daddy, daddy

I need a daddy, daddy

Won't you be my daddy, daddy

Come and make it rain down on me

“I want another drink.” Aaliyah said.

“Me too,” Terry wrapped an arm around her waist, “But damn…you feel good against me. I don’t wanna move.”

Thankfully, the waitress responsible for their table was heading over. Terry ordered four more shots and another lemon drop. Aaliyah dipped her body low on to the floor, her hand gliding down Terry’s abs and over the tent in his pants. She gabbed onto his thighs and stared up at him while bent at the knees.

“Get up here,” Terry said, his eyes low from the contact high he was experiencing from the weed.

Aaliyah cupped her hand over his hard dick and pinched his shaft on either side, testing how rigid he was. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ and she flicked her eyes up at him.

Terry mouthed, “Get up.” As a warning.

Aaliyah giggled as she stood, Terry reaching around to pop her on the ass. The waitress returned with their new drinks and they took a seat again, drinking until they were both buzzed enough. Terry watched Aaliyah dance for him when the music switched up again. His little performer. He could tell from her unsteady gaze and sloppy movements that she was good and tipsy. Terry came to the rescue with her purse in hand and left money on the table before leaving with Aaliyah safely in his arms.

———-

Ding.

Terry stopped Aaliyah as they stepped off of the elevator and onto their floor. Dim lighting from the chandelier above them created shadows across their bodies as they walked. Aaliyah began to complain about her feet, so Terry stopped her. He crouched down and started removing her shoes, kissing her inner thighs for good measure. Back on his feet, he carried her shoes and when they finally reached their door Aaliyah used the keycard.

Terry held the door open while Aaliyah made her way inside.

“Drink some water,” Terry handed Aaliyah a water bottle, “and take your clothes off.”

“We fucking?” Aaliyah asked with a smile.

“Whatchu think?”

Aaliyah drank the entire bottle of water down before tossing the empty bottle in the trash. She removed her hoop earrings and placed them on the table next to her bed.

“Help me out,” Aaliyah pinned her hair up and made her way over to Terry, “Undress me please.”

Aaliyah positioned herself in front of the mirror and Terry crept up behind to help her out her dress. His finger tips tugged her dress over her shoulders agonizingly slow, his eyes trailing a path down her spine. Aaliyah slipped her arms out and Terry helped her get it past her hips.

“You think you have the energy to go all night?” Terry questioned as he stared at Aaliyah through the mirror.

“I’m willing to test that out.” Aaliyah replied, glancing up at Terry over her shoulder with a playful smile.

Aaliyah turned to face him, taking off his shirt. Terry raised his long arms above his head and his shirt went up and over and to the floor. His gold chain sat against his pecs and Aaliyah started unfastening his pants. Terry kicked off his shoes and then his eyes locked with Aaliyah’s as she dug her fingers into the waistband of his pants and briefs, pulling both down in one motion. He kicked out of them and then removed his socks.

“You’ve managed to give me a perfectly romantic weekend. A first for me.”

Terry brushed his knuckles across Aaliyah’s cheeks before cupping her face, “Because you’re so special…”

Terry adored Aaliyah. A sudden timid silence filled the space between them and Aaliyah dropped her eyes as she smiled.

“Look at me, pretty baby…”

Aaliyah met his gaze and Terry’s hands fell to the back of her thighs.

“You know I gotta fuck the shit outta you and make you take this dick like a big girl for having my pussy out tonight, right?”

A gasp escaped her lips as Terry lifted her up and Aaliyah circled his waist with her legs. One hand on the back of her head, arm around her waist, he carried her over towards the patio doors. There was only one lamp light on, half of the room pitch black and the other ignited. Aaliyah circled her arms around his shoulders.

They kissed with teeth clashing, tongues touching, and lips sucking. Terry’s dick kept bobbing up and down, smacking Aaliyah against her fat lips. Terry’s lips attacked her jaw, her throat, and her chest. While he sucked her nipples, Aaliyah started bucking her hips against his stiffness.

“You want me to fuck you like this? For everyone to see? Huh, nasty girl?”

“Yes!”

“Oh? That was an eager response,” Terry kissed Aaliyah again, “Let’s see if this pretty pussy can handle it.”

Terry used his immense power and with one arm he lifted Aaliyah sideways so he could use his other hand to point his leaky tip between her pussy lips and in that good, wet hole. A creamy noise filled the room when his tip finally made its way inside and down to his balls. Terry wasted no time fitting Aaliyah down on that big daddy dick. Her ass smacked against the glass and her heels dug into his lower back. Terry flexed all the muscles in his body to slam up into her.

“SHIT DADDY!”

Aaliyah’s back pressed into the glass and Terry kept her legs wide open the more he buried himself inside. He formed a frown on his face and his brows pinched together. He looked riled up and Aaliyah could feel it all.

“Babyyyyyyyyyy…” Terry moaned.

“That pussy good?” Aaliyah responded between soft whimpers.

Terry molded his lips into hers.

“So fuckin’ good. You’re makin’ a mess on this dick, girl,” Terry spoke against her lips, “wetting this dick up, baby. Got my shit so hard…baby, I can’t stop fucking you…”

Aaliyah couldn’t handle the way his oceanic eyes looked at her. She stared down at his good pipe going in and out of her creamy hole with a perplexed look. No matter where her eyes went, she was spellbound by his hypnotic eyes or his thick, long dick. An airy sigh escaped her mouth when he started beating it up at a pace that had her toes curling.

His big, strong body had her sandwiched between the glass and his rock hard torso. Their mingled sweat mixed with the smell of her wet pussy clouded her senses. Terry had his hands planted on the glass, her shoulders draped over his arms, and his hips a never ending piston. Her languid eyes locked with his and he gave her a jeering smile. He was so fucking fine it was unfair.

“Oh…Terry…oh, Terry…oh shit…right there…make me cum…Terry…Terry…Terry—”

Aaliyah gave his chest weak slaps and the back of her head bumped the patio door behind her. Her thighs squeezed his hips painfully and her eyes crossed.

“Good girl, that’s how you cum on this dick.”

Terry kissed Aaliyah, his lips ravishing her mouth while the aftershocks of her orgasm settled. He wasn’t finished with her yet. Terry held her tight and then he opened the patio doors. He placed Aaliyah on her feet and turned her, leaning her over the railing. It was loud enough below from the all the commotion and their patio light wasn’t on.

He slid in from behind and Aaliyah looked back at him with a quizzical expression. Terry slipped his fingers through her hair, gripped the high density strands, and started delivering precise thrusts. Anyone in the rooms beside them could walk out and catch them. A bystander from below if they were close enough could hear their bodies moving.

Terry couldn’t get off that pussy if he tried. The mixture of shock and lust on Aaliyah’s pretty face was yet another weakness. Her soft ass thrown back on him. The way she took his dick, all of his dick. Her sweet moans in his ear.

“Work this pussy, daddy!”

Terry covered her mouth and blew her back out further. His sweat fell over her back and his muscles ached.

“Daddy got you baby…uhhuhhh…such a good girl…”

Terry almost came with the way Aaliyah’s walls gripped him with her release. As he pulled out, Aaliyah squirted on his dick and all over the patio floor. Terry’s forehead fell against Aaliyah’s back and she let out an exhausted laugh. Aaliyah spun around and dropped to her knees to clean her mess off. Terry flashed her a tender smile while she throated his dick.

Aaliyah popped her lips off and rotated her head to drag her lips along the sides of his shaft to clean up her cum. She even dipped her head lower to slurp on his balls. His nuts drew up tight and the veins along his shaft engorged with blood. A familiar tickle behind his navel alerted him that he was ready to cum.

No. Terry needed to be inside his pussy again. He needed to cum in his pussy.

He gained enough strength to pick Aaliyah up bridal style and walk with her back inside.

On the bed, Aaliyah sat up on her side and Terry got behind her, lifted one leg, and entered her gushy pussy again. His fingers strummed her clit as he sucked on her neck. Aaliyah kept her leg in the air for him. He slowly fucked her and brought her to climax again.

“I love the faces you make when you cum all over this dick…”

“It’s so big inside me…I can’t stop cumming on it…”

“Good,” Terry thrust into her and held his dick there.

“Fuck,” Aaliyah trembled, “So fuckin’ thick in my pussy…”

“I know baby…I know…”

“You must want me to feel it all week,” Aaliyah released a moan and met Terry’s searing eyes. She crooked her head and puckered her lips. Terry captured her soft lips with wet smacking and spit swapping, “Oh, shit…”

Tears rolled down and over her nose. Aaliyah chewed on her bottom lip. Terry would slowly withdraw his hips and then push back into her to the hilt with a sharp thrust. He leaned over her to watch her face.

“Terry, fuck,” Aaliyah was drooling on the pillow, “Baby you gotta take some outtttt…”

Aaliyah tried to scoot away. Terry pinned her down beneath him and as soon as he put her ankles over his shoulders he had his fists rammed into the mattress and his hips working to fuck her good. Aaliyah tried to close her legs, Terry growing hostile and pinning her ankles back.

“Fuuuuuuck!” Aaliyah pushed at Terry’s chest, “So much…dick…fuck…”

Terry smacked her hands away and gave her a pointed look, “Aaliyah…please keep still before you make me mad, baby.”

His words were soft spoken but the way he looked down at her from that angle, repeatedly clenching his jaw, Aaliyah didn’t have a say in the matter. Terry was back inside of her like it was his second home.

“Keep your hands down…do what I say, Aaliyah.” Terry warned.

His stern voice and killer strokes had Aaliyah crying.

“Why you fuckin’ me like this?” Aaliyah questioned with passionate concern, “Why you fuckin’ me like this, Daddy?”

Her head extended back and Terry almost lost his damn mind from the pressure around his dick when her soft, inner folds began to pulsate. He lost all control of his neck and his head fell forward against Aaliyah’s shoulder.

“Fuck, ima cum so deep in this shit…”

“Unh! Uh! Oo! Oh my god! Terry!”

Terry hissed with his final strokes. He dropped down and painted Aaliyah’s walls white. His arms shook and he had to roll over before he fell on top of Aaliyah and crushed her. Terry mushed his face against her sweaty neck and brought his hand between her legs. With two fingers, he pushed them inside of her to feel his cum.

Aaliyah was spent. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“You did so well, good job baby,” Terry kissed along her sweaty skin, “Wore me out…”

Aaliyah mumbled something Terry couldn’t decipher.

“Wanna take a bath?” Terry asked with a tired voice.

“Mhm…”

Terry opened one eye to look at Aaliyah. He stroked her hair from her face. She opened her eyes fully and turned her head toward him. A smile spread across her face.

“You complete me.” Aaliyah spoke so low.

“I complete you?” He repeated.

“Mhm. Me,” Aaliyah pointed to her naked chest, “And you,” she pressed the same finger against Terry’s chest, “We go together.”

Terry laughed joyfully, “Yeah? Boyfriend and Girlfriend?”

Aaliyah simply nodded her head with her eyes closed and a faint smile.

They rested in the bed for another thirty minutes before Terry finally got up to start the bath. He ran a warm bath and let Aaliyah relax for a bit. Back in the room, Terry lifted her up from the bed and brought her in the bathroom. He carefully placed her in the tub and then positioned himself behind her. Terry washed her and pressed kisses against her cheek.

Holding her in his arms, he couldn’t ignore the feeling. The intensity. He wanted and needed this woman.

———

It was a cooler day on Sunday. Aaliyah took a nap in the passenger seat of Terry’s hellcat. She was scrunched up in a ball, frizzy hair flying into her face from the afternoon air billowing in through the windows. Terry rolled to a stop in front of her shotgun house and turned his car off. A crisp, white T-shirt with a pair of bootcut, light wash jeans was his attire. Aaliyah shifted and then she peeked her head out from beneath the hood of Terry’s all black hoodie.

“Wake up sleeping beauty. Home sweet home.”

Aaliyah stretched and rubbed her eyes before staring at her home awaiting her arrival.

“Do I have to?”

She poked her lip out at Terry. He stroked it with his thumb.

“I don’t have anything to do I can come in.”

Aaliyah’s face lit up, “Oh, please, won’t you keep me company?” She asked with a deep, southern drawl.

Terry laughed, “Anything for my pretty baby.”

“You love me too much—shit.”

Aaliyah clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled with embarrassment. Terry pinched the bridge of his nose and cracked a smile.

“That just…sorry,” Aaliyah slapped her forehead, “I meant to say…like. Oh god—”

“Aaliyah, chill. It’s okay.”

She covered her face with her hands and Terry unbuckled his seatbelt so he could lift her up and over into his lap.

“I’m falling for you deep, baby…ain’t nothing wrong with what you said.”

Aaliyah sat her chin on Terry’s shoulder.

“I’ve never been treated like this…ever.”

Terry stroked her back with his hand.

“I want you to let go of the past. I’m here to show you that you deserve love, Aaliyah…you’re an amazing woman.”

“You really don’t care that I shake my ass for a little cash?”

Terry shook his head and chuckled, “NO.”

“I’m nervous, about the wedding…”

Aaliyah sat back and looked down at Terry. He furrowed his brows with concern.

“If you think I’m gon’ sit back and let anybody talk disrespectful about you…”

Terry tilted her chin up. He closed the space between them and gave Aaliyah a slow tongue kiss. When Aaliyah broke the kiss first, Terry stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“You have nothing to worry about. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s get outta this car.”

Aaliyah crawled back into her seat and Terry exited the car. As he got out, he noticed a woman standing across the street, peeking at him from behind a light pole. Her hair was all over her head and she was dressed in a loose fitting flannel shirt with an equally ill–fitting faded dark green T-shirt beneath it. She wore denim cut offs and flip flops. Beneath the changes that living on the street can do to you, Terry could see that she was once a gorgeous woman.

“Terry…”

Aaliyah followed his gaze and when she realized where he was looking and who he was looking at, her entire body became stiff and her face fell, becoming expressionless.

The woman finally stepped out from behind the light post. She wrapped the flannel around her narrow waist as if she were exposed. Glancing both ways cautiously, she stepped down from the curb and walked over towards them. Aaliyah jumped into action, walking around the car with brisk movements. Terry didn’t intervene, but he kept an eye on the woman and around him. He could tell from the shifty look in her eyes that she was watching out for an unwanted guest.

“Mama, I thought I said you can’t come around unannounced?” Aaliyah fussed.

“I know, I know, I–I saw your car in the driveway. I know it’s–I’m only askin’ because I owe some money—”

“Stop,” Aaliyah didn’t have the energy to go back and forth with her mother, especially when she had such a great time with Terry, “You can’t keep showing up with your hand out. I gave you money. I refuse to continue funding your habit.”

“Aaliyah, please,” her mother grabbed onto her hand, halting her from leaving, “I know I’m no good. I know you hate me. But if I don’t pay him back, he gon’ kill me.”

Terry stood taller when he heard those words. He made eye contact with Aaliyah and he could see the inner battle between wanting to help her mother and setting boundaries. He approached them, her mother watching him with paranoid eyes.

“Who you?” She questioned rudely.

Aaliyah crossed her arms over her body and hung her head in shame. Terry glanced at her before returning his attention to her addict mother. She licked her cracked lips with uneasy eyes.

“My name is Terry. I’m Aaliyah’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.”

Aaliyah appeared miffed that Terry introduced himself to her mother as her boyfriend. She remained stiff and icy despite the sweltering heat in Baton Rouge.

“Didn’t know you had a lil’ friend, baby…nice to meet you.”

Her mother scratched her neck, a nervous tick. She tried adjusting her attire in front of Terry, a despondent expression on her face.

“Likewise, ma’am.” Terry replied politely with a faint smile.

“Hope you treating my baby girl with some respect and love. She deserves it,” her mother sought out Aaliyah’s eyes with her sorrowful ones, “I know I ain’t been the best mother…”

“Yes, ma’am. I plan to.”

Her mother nodded her head, eyes shifting from left to right. Terry looked at Aaliyah again, a feeble smile on his face as he caught her eyes.

“Listen,” Terry reached into his back pocket, pulled out two, crisp hundreds, and held it out for her mother to take, “Will this take care of it?”

Aaliyah snapped her head up, “Terry? Don’t—”

Her mother went from dispirited to elated in a matter of seconds. It sickened Aaliyah to her core.

“Thank you,” her mother snatched the bills from Terry’s fingers so fast she could have ripped them. An artificial smile spread across her chapped lips, revealing missing teeth, “bless you, bless you, baby. Thank you for this,” she pressed the money against her chest, “Look out for Aaliyah, wil you?” She kissed the money and started backpedaling.

Aaliyah was furious.

“Aaliyah, I’m trying—”

Aaliyah was halfway to her house. She stomped up her steps and fumbled with her keys. Terry watched her mother rush off wiping her tears away with her dingy shirt. Terry took long strides towards Aaliyah’s house, skipping steps as he entered her home. He followed the sound of dishes and cabinets shutting. Terry entered Aaliyah’s kitchen, carefully approaching her from behind while she busied herself with putting away kitchenware from her dishwasher.

A gloomy silence hung in the air between them. Terry stood behind Aaliyah, allowing his presence to cover her with warmth and protection. Aaliyah shut the door to the dishwasher and gripped the edge of the counter. Since she hadn’t been home, the house felt stuffy and hot. Aaliyah stepped back and lifted Terry’s hoodie up and over her head. A thin, spaghetti strapped tank in light gray was revealed. It matched her gray leggings.

Terry took the hoodie from her. Aaliyah had her head turned away, hiding her face from him.

“I’m sorry.” Terry spoke.

“You should have let me handle it.”

“I know it ain’t my business…I couldn’t shake the fear in her eyes.”

“She’s an actress,” Aaliyah said sarcastically as she turned to face him fully, “She played you like she played me plenty.”

Aaliyah laughed despite her growing frustration.

“She’s been lurking around my house all weekend. I have surveillance cameras all around my house and I kept getting alerts to my phone with her knocking on my door and peering in my windows.”

“That’s why you looked like that when we went out for lunch yesterday.” Terry said.

“I didn’t want to talk about it. My mama is a trigger for me.”

For once, Terry didn’t have the words. He felt he’d crossed a line with Aaliyah. Things were still so fresh for them.

“I’m really sorry, baby,” Terry extended his hand to grab Aaliyah’s.

She stared down at their connected hand and the way Terry stroked hers with his thumb.

“…My mother will never change,” A single tear rolled down her cheek, “And I’m so embarrassed that this had to be the first time you two meet.”

Aaliyah slipped away from Terry and out of the kitchen. Terry leaned against her octagon–shaped kitchen island with deep–green marbling, white hued veining, and a polished finish. It matched the surrounding counter tops in her small and intimate kitchen. Terry found himself traveling down her narrow hallway that led to her bedroom.

Aaliyah was crying on her bed covered in clothes. She hid her face against her pillow. Terry tapped the open door with his knuckles. Aaliyah’s sniffles silenced and she looked up at him. She sat up, wiping the tip of her nose with the back of her hand.

“Can I come in?”

Aaliyah replied with a nod.

Terry stepped over the threshold that separated him from the hallway and her. He kicked his shoes off and not wanting to sit on the bed with his outside clothes, he took off his jeans. Terry walked around her canopy bed and pulled the black drapes back before crawling onto the bed. He settled on his side next to her.

“You don’t have to talk about it, Aaliyah. But I’m here to listen…”

Terry couldn’t fight the urge to stroke away her tears with his thumb. Aaliyah’s wet lashes blinked at him as she rested on her side facing him.

“Blue magic and Luster’s Pink Hair Lotion…”

A crease formed between Terry’s brows as he waited for Aaliyah to speak again.

“Isoplus Oil Sheen…I can still smell it…taste it almost. My childhood memories. It just…reminds me of how exciting it used to be sitting in the kitchen the night before Easter Sunday. My mom would have the radio on and I would be sitting in her designated styling chair while she put a hot comb to my hair. I wanted to be a hairdresser like her…”

Aaliyah continued, “I was so amazed at the hair shows. Blown away by my mama’s talent. You couldn’t tell me shit ‘bout my mama…she was everything to me…but then my daddy died…and…that light in her just…burnt out. Despite the way she allowed her depression to neglect me…the one thing that made me so angry with her…was when our home got taken away and she…she let them people throw away our memories. All the pictures…all the CDs…all my toys…all the hair products…I resented her then. Wild, right?”

Aaliyah’s red–rimmed eyes sought out Terry’s. Somehow, seeing her cry made his eyes sting as tears threatened to fall. He blinked rapidly to control it.

“Nothing can help her? Not rehab? Not family?”

“She exhausted rehab. My family disowned her. For a while I’ve been the only one to look out for her. Like I’m the mother,” Aaliyah released a furious chuckle, “And nothing I did meant anything to her. I’m so tired. And it hurts me because I want better for her. I miss her. But I just…Terry, I can’t do it—”

“It’s okay, Aaliyah. It’s okay…You’ve done all you could, baby. I wish she didn’t fail you…C’mere…”

Aaliyah buried her face against his T-shirt and as she cried, the scent of his fresh linen and sweat felt like comfort. His bulging biceps hugged her and he rubbed soothing circles into her back.

“I don’t want you to feel ashamed or embarrassed. If anything, she should…”

Terry kissed the top of Aaliyah’s head.

Aliyah hiccuped between cries. Terry let her release it all, uncaring that the front of his shirt was soaked. Her warm breath against his chest felt good and if he could remain silent and calm with her forever like this he would. Terry glanced down at her after some time and she was asleep against his chest. The crying exhausted her. Plus, from their weekend filled with sex, eating, and drinking, Aaliyah didn’t have proper sleep. Neither did he. Terry checked the time on his bronze and black Movado Watch with a gold plate and a cognac leather strap.

It was a little past five in the afternoon.

Terry eased from Aaliyah’s bed and covered her with her sheets. He left her to rest while he decided to look through her fridge for anything to cook for dinner. He opened her pantry and found some golden potatoes and in her fridge he found some andouille sausage. Opening her freezer, he noticed a pack of boneless, skinless chicken thighs. While his pretty girl slept her worries away, Terry made his way around her kitchen with his tear–stained T-shirt and Calvin Klein’s.

Smothered potatoes with chicken and smoked sausage was on the menu.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

#terry richmond #rebel ridge #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #aaron pierre x black!oc

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theskywithin · 2 months ago

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Birth Chart Breakdown: Ascendant/Descendant (All Signs)

Your Ascendant is the energy you radiate into the world, the way you naturally present yourself before deeper layers are revealed. It is your instinctive response to life, influencing how others perceive you and how you navigate new experiences.

Your Descendant, sitting opposite, represents the qualities you seek in relationships, the energies that complement and challenge you. It holds a mirror to the traits you may not always recognize within yourself but are drawn to in others. Through your partnerships, you come to understand the missing pieces of your own identity.

🔥 Aries Ascendant / Libra Descendant – The Bold Self vs. The Harmonizer You step into the world with unshakable confidence, eager to take action and initiate new experiences. There is an instinctive independence to your approach—bold, direct, and unafraid of challenges. Life is a battlefield to conquer, and you thrive in the pursuit of personal goals. But relationships ask something different of you. With Libra ruling your Descendant, you are drawn to those who embody diplomacy, grace, and the ability to balance your fiery nature with harmony. You seek a partner who teaches you the art of compromise, someone who reminds you that strength is not just in action but in understanding. Love, for you, is about learning to lead while also making space for another’s voice.

🌿 Taurus Ascendant / Scorpio Descendant – The Steady Self vs. The Intense Partner You move through life with patience, stability, and a preference for comfort over chaos. There is a deep appreciation for beauty, security, and the tangible pleasures of existence. You don’t rush—you build. But relationships take you into the depths. With Scorpio on the Descendant, you are drawn to intense, transformative connections that challenge your desire for predictability. You attract people who push you beyond surface-level comfort, stirring emotions you may not always be prepared to face. Love, for you, is about learning that true security doesn’t come from external stability, but from the courage to dive into the unknown, to let yourself be seen beyond the surface.

💨 Gemini Ascendant / Sagittarius Descendant – The Curious Self vs. The Expansive Partner You greet the world with a quick mind and an adaptable spirit. Words are your playground, and knowledge fuels your endless curiosity. There is a lightness to your presence, an ability to navigate different social circles with ease. But in relationships, you crave depth. With Sagittarius on the Descendant, you are drawn to those who expand your mind and challenge you to look beyond the details into life’s bigger picture. You seek a partner who brings adventure, meaning, and a philosophy that deepens your restless heart. Love, for you, is about balancing intellect with wisdom, conversation with action, and embracing a connection that doesn’t just keep you entertained, but helps you grow.

🌊 Cancer Ascendant / Capricorn Descendant – The Nurturer vs. The Builder You step into the world with a gentle, intuitive presence, instinctively attuned to the emotions of those around you. There is a strong desire to create a sense of home wherever you go, to nurture and protect. But relationships demand a different strength. With Capricorn on the Descendant, you are drawn to partners who provide structure, stability, and a sense of long-term direction. You seek someone who grounds you when emotions become overwhelming, who teaches you that strength is not just found in softness but in resilience. Love, for you, is about learning that true security isn’t about shielding yourself from hardship, but about building a foundation strong enough to withstand life’s storms.

☀️ Leo Ascendant / Aquarius Descendant – The Performer vs. The Visionary You move through life with a radiant presence, naturally commanding attention with your warmth, charisma, and bold self-expression. You thrive in spaces where you can shine, where your energy can be fully seen and appreciated. But relationships pull you toward something unconventional. With Aquarius on the Descendant, you are drawn to partners who challenge you to think beyond yourself, who introduce you to new ideas and ways of being. You seek someone who values individuality as much as connection, who reminds you that love is not about possession but about mutual inspiration. Love, for you, is about learning that true recognition doesn’t just come from external admiration, but from being truly understood.

🌾 Virgo Ascendant / Pisces Descendant – The Pragmatist vs. The Dreamer You present yourself with precision, logic, and a focus on efficiency. Life is something to be organized, improved, and understood through careful analysis. You pride yourself on your reliability, your ability to bring order to the chaos. But relationships challenge you to let go. With Pisces on the Descendant, you are drawn to partners who exist in the realm of emotion, intuition, and spirituality. You seek someone who softens your edges, who reminds you that not everything needs to be figured out, that some things are meant to be felt rather than analyzed. Love, for you, is about learning to trust, to surrender to the unknown, and to embrace the beauty of imperfection.

⚖️ Libra Ascendant / Aries Descendant – The Harmonizer vs. The Warrior You move through life with grace, diplomacy, and an innate ability to see both sides. Your presence is magnetic, effortlessly drawing people in with charm and refinement. You seek beauty, balance, and peaceful connections. But relationships challenge you to be bold. With Aries on the Descendant, you are drawn to partners who embody independence, action, and raw passion. You need someone who pushes you to take initiative, to stand firm in your desires, and to embrace the fire within. Love, for you, is about learning that true harmony isn’t found in avoiding conflict, but in standing strong while still choosing connection.

🦂 Scorpio Ascendant / Taurus Descendant – The Intense Self vs. The Steady Partner You step into the world with an air of mystery, exuding intensity, depth, and an unshakable presence. You see life as a battlefield of transformation, constantly seeking truth beneath the surface. There is a magnetism about you, a quiet power that both intrigues and intimidates. But relationships pull you toward stillness. With Taurus on the Descendant, you are drawn to partners who embody stability, patience, and unwavering loyalty. You seek someone who grounds your emotional storms, who reminds you that strength is not just found in transformation, but in endurance. Love, for you, is about learning that true power lies not only in depth but in consistency—the kind of connection that does not waver, but holds steady through it all.

🏹 Sagittarius Ascendant / Gemini Descendant – The Explorer vs. The Messenger You greet life with boundless energy, a thirst for adventure, and a spirit that refuses to be confined. You are driven by the pursuit of truth, constantly seeking meaning beyond the ordinary. Experience is your greatest teacher, and you crave the freedom to roam. But relationships thrive in connection. With Gemini on the Descendant, you are drawn to partners who challenge your ideas, keep your mind sharp, and remind you that wisdom is not just found in the journey but in conversation. Love, for you, is about learning that true expansion isn’t only about movement, but about staying long enough to truly listen, to share, and to grow together.

🏔 Capricorn Ascendant / Cancer Descendant – The Ambitious Self vs. The Nurturing Partner You step into the world with purpose, exuding discipline, resilience, and an undeniable sense of responsibility. Life is something to be built, one achievement at a time. You are grounded, self-sufficient, and determined to carve a path of success. But relationships pull you toward softness. With Cancer on the Descendant, you are drawn to partners who offer emotional warmth, deep care, and a safe space to rest. You seek someone who reminds you that love isn’t earned through accomplishment, but freely given. Love, for you, is about learning that true strength lies in allowing yourself to be vulnerable, in finding security not just in structure, but in deep emotional connection.

🌐 Aquarius Ascendant / Leo Descendant – The Rebel vs. The Romantic You navigate life with a detached, intellectual approach, valuing freedom and innovation above all else. You thrive in spaces where ideas flow, where individuality is celebrated, where convention is questioned. But in relationships, you seek warmth. With Leo on the Descendant, you are drawn to partners who bring passion, creativity, and an unapologetic confidence. You need someone who reminds you that love is not just an idea to be understood, but an experience to be felt. Love, for you, is about learning to step into the spotlight of your own emotions, to embrace vulnerability, and to let your heart be as bold as your mind.

🌊 Pisces Ascendant / Virgo Descendant – The Mystic vs. The Grounded Partner You step into the world with an ethereal presence, moving through life with deep sensitivity and an innate connection to the unseen. You are guided by intuition, emotion, and dreams. But relationships ground you in reality. With Virgo on the Descendant, you are drawn to partners who bring structure, logic, and a sense of practical guidance. You seek someone who helps you make sense of your feelings, who provides stability without stifling your creative soul. Love, for you, is about learning that dreams need form, that vision needs action, and that a connection is strongest when it honors both magic and method.

✨ The Ascendant is the face you show the world. The Descendant is the mirror that reflects who you become through others. Understanding their interplay helps you navigate life with both confidence and connection, balancing the self you express with the self you discover in love. ✨

#astrology #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #birth chart #zodiac #natal astrology #natal chart

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mattsstarlet · 2 months ago

Text

⋆˚࿔ pearl ⟢

camgirl!reader gets overstimulated by pornstar!matt and her camgirl!friend.

contains: smut (p in v), unprotected sex, threesome (male + 2 females), overstimulation, degradation if you squint, use of vibrator, squirting.

IMPORTANT NOTE: camgirl!friend is exclusively for the girls only, this is a one time thing. also i’m bi, so yes. i am allowed to write this 😊

“can you give us one more?” pearl asked softly in your ear, brushing the strands away from your sweaty forehead, kissing your temple. you laid your naked back against her bra covered chest, panting and sobbing as matt continued to fuck you through your third orgasm.

her hands explored your spent body, cupping your tits and playing with them, squeezing them ever so gently. her gaze flickered over to matt’s stoic face, his jaw clenched as she kissed your neck.

“someone looks angry.” she taunted, giggling in your ear, cupping your chin and angling your head to brush her lips against yours. “you’re my pretty slut.” she whispered, placing a light peck.

matt chuckled deeply, shaking his head in amusement, a lopsided grin appeared on his lips as he slowed his pace, giving you deep and taunting thrusts that made your toes curl. pearl pulled away, reaching for the wand beside her and clicking the ‘on’ button, a loud buzz harmonizing with your cries and the sound of skin clapping.

“shiiiit— there we go.” he groaned, watching you jump as the vibrator came in contact with your clit, your gummy walls fluttering around his cock. your eyes rolled back, your mouth hanging low as pearl continued to grope your tit with her free hand. “that’s my sweet girl.”

“what’s it gotta take for you to be louder hm?” she muttered, her thumb hovering over the ‘+’ button on the wand. her eyes flickered over to your laptop, your chat box going absolutely crazy, filled with many compliments and ‘do this’ or ‘do that’. she flashed a toothy grin as she saw the amount of money that was flowing in— all tips were over a hundred.

“oh my god,” you sobbed, your thighs trembling as pearl sped up the toy two volumes up, wanting to hear your overstimulated cries.

“oh i’m sorry.” she fake cooed, running the wand up and down your abused cunt, causing matt to grunt each time the vibrations touched his dick. “you weren’t being loud enough, angel.”

you whined, your words exiting your lips in a slurring mess with drool practically coating your chin. your head felt fuzzy and empty, your vision blurring away from the bubble of tears.

matt moaned at the sight of you in a puddle, reaching forward laying his palm flat on your lower belly, feeling himself pump into you. “that’s m’dick in there, baby. all up in ya guts.”

“mm-hm— oh!— m’cumming.” you cried out, your hips lifting themselves up and rutting them against matt’s cock, your body almost twitching at the high vibrations of the wand.

pearl let out a giggle from her spot behind you, speeding up the intensity once more. “show ‘em what a messy slut you are.” she demanded, letting the toy buzz on your overstimulated, sensitive bud.

a series of curses left your mouth as your pussy spasmed on matt’s length, feeling the knot in your core explode. white, creamy paint adorned the base of his cock before squirting out clear, water-like fluid, wetting the messy sheets underneath you.

matt followed right after, filling your insides with each drop of his cum, his balls slapping against your skin, emptying out his load.

pearl helped you ride out your guys’ high, pressing the wand between you both. “c-can’t… s’too much.” you whined out, sighing in relief as she turned it off.

matt pulled out, watching his cum ooze out of your sloppy cunt before manhandling you onto your tummy, positioning you between pearl’s legs.

“eat her pussy while i fuck you again. shut her up f’me, baby.”

dedicated to my ‘😏’ anon and all the bi girlies <3

credits here.

#𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭© ˚ ༘ ೀ #✰ pornstar!matt x camgirl!reader prompts ✰#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolos #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo au #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets prompt #the sturniolo triplets x you

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kaira-diaries · 4 months ago

Text

Nocturne:

warning: smut-implied age gap || wound cleaning || violence || implied death ||

pairing: fem!xfrontman/In-ho

wc: 4k

a/n: Okay, I feel like while writing this I blindly turned it into an enemies to lovers. Kind of? Sorta? Maybe?

summary: The sheltered daughter of a VIP grows bored of the games, and finds herself exploring the quarters of the front man, only she's blindly unaware. This mistake, while nearly costs her her life, also opens up an intense and longing romance.

->Masterlist <-

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

You stifled a yawn, staring down at the game room where players carefully carved honeycombs under the watchful eyes of masked guards. Dalgona—a game you knew well but found painfully dull. Your father, sprawled beside you on the velvet loveseat, reeked of expensive liquor and slurred, "Where are you going?"

As you stood, you tucked a pillow beneath his head, smoothing your burgundy dress. "For a drink. Rest now."

Another VIP leaned over, gesturing to your snoring father. "Had too much?"

"Always," you replied with a tight smile. "Keep an eye on him, will you?"

Glass in hand, you ascended the grand staircase to the bar. The itch of your golden mask only added to your frustration. The sound of a gunshot from the game room below barely held your attention. Forty lost—disappointing. You popped the cork on a fresh bottle of wine, pouring a glass and savoring the first sip.

Then, through the double doors ahead, you noticed something. A space you'd never seen before, dark and enticing.

You hesitated, glancing back at the games. Nothing exciting there, and your father was well guarded. With a sly smile, you patted the blade strapped to your thigh, pushed the doors open, and stepped into the unknown.

With the wine bottle in hand, you take a generous swig, the rich flavor a momentary comfort. The foyer feels stark, oppressive—its black walls and cool gray floors exuding a chill that seeps into your skin. Gold accents glint faintly in the dim light, the only warmth in this austere domain. You grimace at the decor but press on, curiosity pulling you deeper.

The elongated hallway looms ahead, flanked by heavy, closed doors. Each one seems to hum with secrets, daring you to turn the handle. You hesitate, a voice in the back of your mind warning you to turn around. Yet, as your fingers graze the cool brass of a doorknob, you pull back. Another sip of wine quiets the voice, and you continue to the open space at the hall's end.

This room feels different—softer, more inviting. You run your fingers along the sleek fabric of a gray loveseat, its plush texture a strange comfort against the stark surroundings. Your gaze lands on a collection of vibrant figurines—a rare splash of color in the muted space. One stands out: a woman in a flowing red gown, microphone in hand, her face alight with passion. Around her, a miniature band, instruments gleaming, seems poised to play.

Your heart races as you spot a remote beside the figures. The urge to press it outweighs any lingering caution. You place the bottle down next to your mask as you remove it, press the button, and watch as the figures come to life, their voices harmonizing in a hauntingly beautiful rendition of "Fly Me to the Moon."

The melody fills the room, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Eyes closed, you let the music wash over you, unsure if it's the alcohol or the song that's softening the edges of the world.

You were halfway through the bottle of wine when the music stopped abruptly, and a cold dread prickled your spine. The figures had ceased their dance mid-note, leaving the room in a suffocating silence.

You spun around, the blade on your thigh now in your grip, sharp and ready.

Standing in the doorway was a figure shrouded in shadow, his presence dominating the room. He stepped forward, the dim light catching the edges of a cold, metallic mask. His posture was rigid, and his gloved hand gripped a pistol aimed directly at you.

"Who are you?" His voice was like crushed gravel, low and commanding.

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your expression sharp, masking the fear threatening to surface. "You first," you bit back, your fingers tightening around the hilt of your blade.

His head tilted slightly, the gesture almost mocking. "You're in my quarters, and yet you demand answers."

You shifted your stance; every muscle in your body coiled like a spring. "I didn't see your name on the door," you snapped, each word laced with defiance.

In a flash, he was upon you, closing the distance with startling speed. His hand caught your wrist, twisting it just enough to force the knife from your grip without breaking the skin. You gritted your teeth as he pinned your arm behind your back, pressing you against the cold edge of the table.

His gun found its way under your chin, tilting your head back to meet his masked gaze. The mask's lifeless eyes stared down at you, void of humanity, and yet you swore you could feel the heat of his scrutiny.

"Answer me," he growled, his voice a hairsbreadth from your ear.

You smirked, though your pulse hammered against your ribs. "Kill me, then. I dare you. Let's see how you'd like explaining to everyone why a VIP's daughter ended up dead in your quarters."

His grip faltered for a fraction of a second, a hesitation so slight that most wouldn't notice. But you did. He released you with an almost annoyed shove, holstering his gun as he took a deliberate step back.

Rubbing your wrist, you straightened and smirked at him, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "Yeah didn't think so," you muttered.

Before he could respond, the room was flooded with pink-clad guards, their rifles raised and aimed squarely at you. Your eyes darted between the barrels of the guns and the masked man.

"Stand down," he barked at the guards, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

They hesitated but obeyed, lowering their weapons.

You scoffed, brushing past the guards as you retrieved your blade from the floor. "All of this for little ol' me?" you quipped, slipping your knife back into its sheath.

The masked man didn't respond, his head tilting slightly as if studying you. His silence unnerved you more than the gun had.

With a flick of your hair, you grabbed your golden mask from the table and placed it over your face, the metallic surface catching the dim light. As you walked past him, your eyes never left his, and neither did his leave yours.

"Try not to miss me," you said with a smirk, your voice dripping with mockery as you exited the room.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

You lay on your back, rubbing your eyes as exhaustion clung to you, but sleep refused to come. You didn't know what time it was, but when a dull headache crept in, you sighed and slipped out of bed to find a glass of water. Throwing on a black robe, you padded into the quiet halls, unconcerned. At this hour, only the guards would be awake, and none would dare glance at the daughter of a VIP—not if they valued their lives.

You crossed your arms against the chill and shut the door behind you. The once-bright hallway was now shaded, the only light spilling faintly from the main room ahead. Your knees ached as you trudged down the cold corridor.

The earlier Dalgona game had thinned the herd. Many players were gone, and your father's friends were divided—some bitter over their financial losses, others laughing as they poured another drink. For them, the money was trivial.

Mama had always been against gambling, insisting money was meant to be earned, not squandered on fleeting thrills. You missed her fiercely, the ache of her absence tightening your chest. You pressed on, trying to shake the melancholy, though your thoughts drifted elsewhere—to him.

His presence lingered in your mind like a gloom you couldn't shake. He had come terrifyingly close to ending your life, yet there was something in that encounter—a charged energy you couldn't explain, equal parts fear and... something else.

Reaching the kitchen, you stepped inside, greeted by the faint hum of the industrial fridge. The space was massive, gleaming stainless steel counters and cabinets casting faint reflections in the dim light. You found a glass in one of the cabinets, filling it with water from the sleek faucet.

As you raised the glass to your lips, a flicker of movement in the doorway caught your eye. Your heart stopped. He stood there, The masked man, silent and imposing.

A startled yelp escaped your lips as you stumbled back a step, clutching your chest.

"You're gonna give me a heart attack—again," you snapped, scowling at him as you poured

another generous measure of water into your glass. "Ever heard of announcing yourself?"

His voice came out low and mechanical, but there was something unspoken behind it, something you couldn't quite place. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes behind the mask locked on you, lingering just a little too long. His steps were slow and soft, as if he was trying not to scare you off.

You cleared your throat, shrugging off the weight of his gaze. "Could be better," you said nonchalantly, swirling the liquid in your glass. Then, flashing a sharp smile, you added, "I didn't quite catch your name after you nearly blew my brains out."

"I'm the Front Man," he replied evenly.

Your grin faltered slightly, but you held it together, leaning casually against the counter. "Fitting. So, what's your deal in all this? Why are you here?"

"I oversee and operate the facility," he said, his voice as detached as ever.

You tilted your head, curiosity tugging at you. "So, you're the game maker," you said, taking a sip and adding, "Those were actually your quarters, then."

"Among other things," he admitted, a touch of something—pride, perhaps?—edging into his tone.

Your lips twitched with the hint of a smile as you folded your arms, suddenly acutely aware of your black robe, barely held together at the waist. "Sorry for snooping earlier," you said, your voice softer. "Curiosity and boredom get the better of me sometimes."

He didn't respond immediately, and the silence stretched, charged and heavy. When he finally spoke, his question caught you off guard. "What did you think of today's game?"

You raised a brow, knowing he didn't care about your opinion. Still, you couldn't resist taking the bait. "Honestly? It was a bit of a snooze fest. The Dalgona challenge?" You shook your head. "A complete letdown. I was so bored I ended up raiding your quarters just to find something more entertaining."

You thought you heard a low scoff beneath the mask, but his face was unreadable. "How so?" he asked, almost begrudgingly.

"It lacked drama," you said, setting your glass down. "There was no big moment to keep the audience on edge. No payoff. It felt...lazy." You leaned forward more, catching his stare. "I'm not easily impressed, and for my first visit? Not great, especially after being...manhandled."

His head tilted slightly, his mask catching the low light. "You're a spoiled brat," he said, his tone clipped. "I'm not here to entertain you."

You pushed away from the counter, stepping in front of him closely, your golden necklace catching the light as it swung forward. "That's where you're wrong," you said, your voice low, each word deliberate. "I'm part of the next generation of VIPs—the ones funding your 'little business.' If you can't impress me, why should I invest in you?"

The room felt colder for a moment, his silence more cutting than any retort. "Why wait until now to join your father at the games?" he asked abruptly, sidestepping your challenge.

You blinked, momentarily thrown. "I've been busy," you said.

"Busy with what?" he pressed.

You toyed with a strand of hair, smirking. "Business," you said lightly. "I mostly dabble in the legal kind...and sometimes the not-so-legal, if the payout's worth it."

A gust of cold air swept through the room, making you shiver. You rubbed your arms for warmth, feeling the tension in the air grow thicker. "How did you end up running all of this, anyway?" you asked, meeting his gaze. "Doesn't seem like the kind of job you'd find on a career board."

His answer was clipped. "I'm skilled at what I do. That's all you need to know."

"That's it?" you asked, your frown betraying your disappointment. "No juicy backstory?"

"Does it really matter?" he countered.

"Guess not," you said with a shrug. But his words lingered, their finality leaving a mark.

"If you're mostly about legal businesses, what are you doing here?" he asked, his tone sharp, probing.

"I love my father," you said simply. "He asked me to come, so I came. And this...this is my future, isn't it? Might as well get familiar with it instead of pretending it doesn't exist."

For a moment, he said nothing, his mask a void, his gaze impenetrable. But you felt it—the weight of his attention, the unspoken pull between you.

Finally, you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the spell breaking. "I should get to bed," you said softly, stepping around him toward the hallway with your water. "Goodnight."

He inclined his head, his voice low. "Goodnight."

As you descended, the warmth of the exchange lingered, a quiet echo in the stillness of the night.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

A week had passed in a whirlwind of chaos, each game more brutal and captivating than the last. Yet, what lingered in your mind was the frustrating absence of The Front Man. Beyond fleeting glances, he seemed distant, as though merely going through the motions. It bothered you that you were disappointed.

Seated in your velvet chair, you felt the thrill of a game's dramatic conclusion but soon found yourself craving a refill. With a sudden burst of energy, you left your seat, not bothering to smooth your sage green dress, and ascended the staircase to the bar. The marble counter gleamed under soft light as you reached for the whiskey decanter.

Before the amber liquid could hit the glass, a loud crash from behind the double doors stopped you cold. Another crash followed, then a cry of pain that sent chills down your spine.

Heart pounding, you slipped inside to find The Front Man hunched over, a knife digging into his bloodied shoulder.

"What the fuck?" you blurted, stepping closer.

He shot out his good arm, stopping you. "I'm fine. Go back to the game," he said, his voice calm but distant.

You hesitated, his words tempting you to leave, but the sight of him—wounded and vulnerable—rooted you to the spot. Walking away felt impossible.

"Let me get it out. At that angle, you'll never dislodge it." He continued to poke and prod at his shoulder, his fingers and the blade digging into the tender flesh. Groaning in pain as blood pooled from his shoulder, he ultimately ignored your offer; shocker.

You rolled your eyes and rushed over to him, hovering until he quit and met your gaze through the grey mask. "You can barely stay upright; let me help," you said, palm outstretched for the blade. "Believe me, you don't want to bleed out. It's a mess to clean up." He stalled for a few heartbeats, and you almost felt awkward until he placed the bloodstained blade in your hand.

Sitting beside him, the tension in his body eased slightly.

"You're stubborn," you muttered, wiping away the blood to get a clearer view of the wound.

"And you're persistent," he shot back, a flicker of amusement flashed in your expression.

"Call it a survival skill." You took a steadying breath. You hesitated for a moment, then glanced at the mask that concealed his face. "This isn't going to work with that thing in the way. Take it off."

Silence followed for a few moments, "It stays on."

"Look," you said, your tone firm but not unkind. "If I'm going to pull this bullet out without nicking an artery, I need to see what I'm doing. That means the mask—and the jacket—have to go."

A tense silence stretched between you, broken only by the sound of his unsteady breathing. Finally, with a sharp exhale, he reached up and unfastened the mask. As it fell away, you froze.

He was breathtaking—sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, and piercing eyes that seemed to cut right through you. Despite the blood and sweat streaking his skin, he radiated a rugged intensity that made it hard to look away. You blinked, forcing yourself to focus.

"Jacket and whatever is on underneath too," you managed, your voice quieter now.

He smirked faintly, as if he'd caught the flicker of shock in your expression, but said nothing as he shrugged off his jacket and black shirt with a wince. Beneath it, his body was lean and sculpted, the muscles taut as he shifted to give you better access to the wound. You swallowed hard, mentally cursing yourself for being distracted. "This might hurt a little more."

"Just do it," he deadpanned, taking a wealthy swig of liquor.

The blade slipped deep into the wound, and your fingers steadied as you worked with precision. The bullet was lodged in an awkward angle, and you cursed under your breath. "What were you doing to end up like this?" You asked, partly to distract him and partly because your curiosity was gnawing at you.

"Nothing, it was a disagreement," he said curtly.

"With a bullet?" you teased, but his silence told you it wasn't a joke. "Right. Noted."

Finally, your blade scraped against something hard, and you exhaled in relief. "Got it." You carefully maneuvered the bullet free, holding it up triumphantly before tossing it onto the table with a metallic clink.

He let out a shaky breath, his body fully relaxing for the first time since you'd entered the room. "You're good at this," he admitted, his voice softer now.

"Thanks. Years of practice." You grabbed another cloth and doused it with the liquor, dabbing it against the wound to clean it. He hissed through his teeth but didn't pull away.

"So," you said, wrapping a bandage tightly around his shoulder, "are you going to tell me what actually happened, or do I have to piece it together myself?"

He studied you for a moment, his gaze unreadable. "You ask too many questions."

"Maybe," you admitted with a small smile, tying off the bandage. "But it's part of my charm." He shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching as if suppressing a smile.

"You're lucky I decided to be a helpful hand today," you commented, admiring your handiwork. "That should hold for now; I'll come back tonight to clean and bandage it once more. Just don't go picking any more fights."

"I'll keep that in mind." You started to gather the bloodied cloths and the blade, but his voice stopped you. "Thank you."

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and you glanced back at him. For a moment, the stoic, commanding figure seemed almost... human.

"You're welcome," you said softly. "Just try not to die on me. It'd be a shame after all that work."

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound sending you a strange warmth. "I'll do my best."

With that, you left his quarters to rejoin the game, the faint sound of his laughter following you as you returned to your velvet seat.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

The room was dim, bathed in the soft, amber glow of a single lamp on the bedside table. The air was thick with the heady mix of whiskey and expensive cologne, an intoxicating blend that made you pause in the doorway, savoring it for a moment longer than you should have. In your hands, bandages and a damp cloth felt heavier than they were, as if weighted by the tension you carried with you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his back straight and shoulders taut, every inch of him radiating restraint. The mask was absent, left somewhere out of sight, and you were mesmerized by the faint outline of his profile in the low light.

You knocked softly on the open door, the sound cutting through the thick silence. "So." he said without looking up, his voice, edged with dry humor. "That's how you announce yourself to someone."

A soft laugh escaped your lips, an involuntary reaction to his sharp wit, as you entered the room. The distance between you felt heavier with every step, but you closed it anyway and sat beside him.

"Any dizziness?" You asked, your voice gentle, almost tentative, as you set the supplies beside you.

He turned his head toward you, his eyes shadowed yet heavy with something unspoken. His stillness was unnerving like he was waiting for something-waiting for you. "No," he said finally, his tone steady but low. "I feel fine."

"Good," you murmured, reaching for his shoulder. His body tensed beneath your touch, a subtle reaction, but you felt it all the same. You worked carefully, peeling away the bandage with delicate fingers, wincing at the angry wound beneath. "Your body must be making up for the blood loss," you added, your voice softer now.

His gaze lingered on you, the intensity of it palpable. You could feel the heat of it, even as he said nothing. The space between you seemed to shrink with each passing second, and though neither of you spoke, the weight of what remained unsaid hung in the air like a fragile thread.

"You don't have to do this," he said, his voice breaking the quiet.

You glance up, meeting his weary gaze. "Maybe not," you admitted, your fingers brushing his skin as you cleaned the wound. "But I want to."

His lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening for a moment before he let out a slow measured breath. "You shouldn't care," he murmured, almost to himself, but the words felt directed at you as if he was referring to when he pressed a gun to your head.

"And yet, here I am," you said, a faint smile playing on your lips.

His expression was unreadable, and for a moment, you thought he might say something more. Instead, he sat in silence, letting you work.

As you finished securing the new bandage, your fingers lingered for just a moment too long, the touch barely there but electric nonetheless. You pulled back slowly, your heart thundering in your chest, and you pulled your hands into your lap, staring down at them.

You could feel his heavy and unwavering gaze on you. He hadn't said a word, but his silence spoke louder than any declaration. His dark and intense eyes roamed over you, not just your face but every detail—the loose strands of your freshly washed hair, the way your shirt slipped slightly off one shoulder, revealing the soft curve beneath. There was more than curiosity in his gaze; there was hunger, restrained and smoldering like a fire barely contained.

"Why did you offer to come here tonight?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

"To check on your wound," you said, though your voice cracked under the weight of his stare.

He leaned forward slightly, his good hand bracing against the bed, and you caught that familiar scent of cologne mingling with a raw scent that was entirely his. "That's not the only reason," he countered, his tone sharp.

Your breath hitched as he closed the space between you, the proximity dizzying. "Maybe I was worried," you admitted in a whisper as his presence consumed you.

"Worried," he repeated, almost to himself, his lips curling into a faint smirk.

"You shouldn't be."

"I can't help it," you whispered.

His hand moved before you could think, his fingers brushing against your cheek. The touch was surprisingly gentle, but his eyes burned with something deeper, something primal. His thumb traced a line down your jaw, "You're exquisite," he murmured as his hand slid down, resting on the side of your neck, his thumb now grazing the hollow of your throat. The pulse beneath his touch quickened, betraying you.

"You should leave," he said, though the words lacked conviction.

"Do you want me to leave?" you asked, searching his eyes for any truth.

His grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly, his fingers pressing against your skin as he tilted his head closer. "No," he admitted, the confession slipping out. Your lips parted, a sharp inhale escaping as the tension between you snapped, and he closed the distance. His lips captured yours with a heat that stole your breath.

The kiss wasn't tentative or hesitant—it was consuming, demanding, and filled with a longing that neither of you could deny anymore. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that left you dizzy, his control slipping just enough to let you feel how much he wanted you.

Your breath hitched as the kiss deepened, his grip on your back tightening, holding you to him. Without breaking the kiss, you shifted even closer, the soft fabric of your shirt brushing against his chest as your hands settled, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingertips. Wanting more, needing more, you leaned further in, swinging one leg over his lap. His breath caught as you settled onto him, straddling his thighs with deliberate care, mindful of his injured shoulder. His good hand explored every inch of you now as the kiss quickened with appetite. You gasped as his hand gripped your ass with breathtaking strength.

The intimacy of the position sent a flush of heat through you, pooling between your thighs as your pulse thrummed wildly. Gazing down at him, he searched your face, lingering on your lips before flicking back up to look at you. Your hands reached up, brushing your fingers against his jaw; the faint stubble was rough beneath your touch. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" you asked softly.

"No," he said, the single word rough and weighted. You smiled.

"Good," you mumbled, your palm pushing his hair from his face.

"Because I don't want to stop." With that said, you pulled your shirt up, over your head and tossed it to the side, unveiling your breasts. He took every inch in of you, wasting no time attaching his lips to you. The sensation was breathtaking as you threw your head back, moaning.

You exhaled sharply. There'd be marks, no doubt. However, concern surfaced within you as he suddenly pulled back. You gazed down at him, catching the flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't fuck you how I want."

Your expression eased as you met his gaze. "Then let me take care of you," you murmured, your voice gentle but determined as you lifted off him and slid down to the floor, settling on your knees. Reaching for his pants, your fingers diligently worked at the leather belt, yanking it free. Unzipping his pants and sliding your hands in, he sprang free before you, and your mouth watered at the view of him. You caught his eye, finding a smirk on his lips as he reached for your hair, wrapping it around his knuckles.

He gave a sharp tug, pulling your head back, and you whined. "You look so pretty on your knees for me," he remarked with desire staining his eyes.

With that, you took his immense size in your mouth, gliding to the pace he had set for you. Your tongue danced on his tip, and you swallowed every time you took the entirety of him; he groaned, "Fuck, just like that." He praised and your eyes watered from the intensity. You weren't outstanding at providing head, and a wave of insecurity washed over you. Nerves twisted in your stomach at the thought of not satisfying him, but the hitches in his breathing, the sharp inhales and exhales, and the praise he offered gave you the assurance you needed as you took him deeper and deeper with intensity and lust. You hadn't been able to see, but his head was thrown back in pleasure, lips parted.

Feeling him twitch in your mouth, you knew he was close as he picked up the speed even more. Saliva began pooling from your lips, dripping onto your knees and covering his length as you fought to breathe. His pull on your hair grew sloppy and you moaned at the appetizing ache in your scalp. "Fuck you're going to make me cum." His voice is rough as he offers one last yank of your hair, slamming you back down onto him and filling your mouth. You swallow the load, pulling off him and meeting his exhausted eyes; he rubs his thumb over your lips, promptly shoving it in your mouth, and you take it with no protest.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

His chest radiated warmth as you melted into his embrace, your heartbeat gradually syncing with his steady rhythm. Your eyes remained closed as you hummed, "you never told me your name."

A calloused palm rubs your shoulder, "In-ho."

You smiled, repeating it, "In-ho. I like that much better than FrontMan."

His fingers gently encircled your wrist, his touch spoke volumes. "Stay with me," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. You pushed yourself onto your elbow, looking down at him. "I am, " you whispered, but he shook his head and caressed your cheek. "Stay here with me. Help me run the whole fucking thing." The request entailed a lot and you weren't able to form a response, stunned by such a proposal, but then you thought it over. There was nothing left for you back home except your emergency medical clinic, which could indeed survive without you. Your father was fine and could take care of himself as long as he had his money. All you contained was a large sum of untouched money. You bit your lip, looking back at him. "Alright."

->Part Two <-

#hwang in ho #the frontman #front man #hwang in ho x reader #in ho squid game #front man x reader #the front man x reader #fan fiction #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfic

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plutosunshine · 3 months ago

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Your Healing Daily Routine: the 6th house

The 6th house in Aries

Since the Aries sign and Mars are responsible for the body, movement, and activity, a healing routine here cannot be done without physical activity as the foundation of health. Regular workouts can help you release accumulated energy. Morning exercises will also be beneficial for you.

People with this placement in their chart find it crucial that no one imposes a daily routine on them from the outside. They want to manage their own schedule and set tasks and goals independently.

For this placement, a certain level of competition is essential to stay in shape and maintain motivation. This can even include competing with yourself and your own ambitions.

A nutritious diet supporting a high activity level is also vital for this placement. Foods like fast food may slow you down.

It is important for this placement to incorporate new elements into the routine to avoid boredom. Try new sports or hobbies.

The 6th house in Taurus

For this position, creating a comfortable and sustainable environment is essential. Arrange your workspace and home to make them cozy, whether it’s through soft fabrics or pleasant scents.

It’s very important for you to maintain a balanced and high-quality diet with fresh products. Enjoy each meal, eating slowly and mindfully.

Choose activities that bring you joy, such as yoga, walks in nature, dancing, or pilates. For people with this placement, regularity is more important than intensity.

Try incorporating meditation and breathing exercises into your daily routine, and spend more time outdoors.

Hobbies like crafting, drawing, cooking, or even gardening might suit you well. These activities can help relieve stress and strengthen your connection with yourself.

Organize your time in a way that helps you avoid rushing and stress. Staying calm and in harmony is crucial for this position.

Don’t forget the importance of quality sleep. Create a comfortable atmosphere: warm blankets, silence, soft lighting, and high-quality bedding.

Pay attention to simple pleasures that help you relax.

The 6th house in Gemini

Everything that helps you grow also helps you heal. Whether it's regular reading of books, articles, educational courses, or anything else. With this approach, keeping a journal or writing down your thoughts can be very helpful for structuring them. You might have a lot of thoughts on a daily basis, so light meditation can help calm your mind and improve focus.

Social interactions with people are also beneficial, whether it's participating in group discussions or sharing a common hobby, where you can exchange information.

You would benefit most from physical activities related to coordination, such as walking, yoga, or dancing.

Try to plan your day with room for flexibility and changes. The "bit by bit" method might work well for you, breaking tasks into smaller portions and alternating between work and rest. Variety is also important to avoid boredom.

Make an effort not to overwhelm yourself with information. Take breaks from the constant flow of information or filter what you consume.

The 6th house in Cancer

It is very important for you to create a cozy atmosphere at home so that your daily routine becomes something enjoyable, whether it's lighting candles, meditating, or listening to calm music. Do household chores in a way that makes them pleasant.

Homemade meals that make you feel warm and cozy can also have a healing effect. Warm drinks, such as chamomile tea or milk with honey, can also help you create a sense of comfort.

Keeping a journal to write down your feelings could be a good practice for clearing your mind of accumulated emotions.

Take care of your body by nurturing your soul. Practices like yoga and other activities that harmonize the body and mind can be helpful. Taking baths with sea salt or essential oils can also benefit you.

Decorating your home can positively impact whether it's fresh flowers, soft fabrics, or cozy lighting.

Daily communication with your loved ones is incredibly healing for you.

Listen to yourself and your feelings; if you need to recharge or rest, don't force yourself to go against your needs.

The 6th house in Leo

For this placement, it is extremely beneficial to wake up with the sunrise. The ritual of waking up plays a significant role in setting the tone for your day. Starting the day with some exercise or dancing to your favorite music will help you kick things off energetically.

It is also crucial for you not only to eat delicious food but to make sure it is visually appealing. Food that pleases the eye will give you an extra boost of energy. Don’t forget to include heart-healthy foods in your diet, as Leo governs the heart (e.g., nuts, avocados, greens, fish).

Approach your daily tasks with a touch of creativity. Even routine activities can be transformed into something enjoyable.

Find time in your routine for self-care, whether it’s a face mask, a stylish hairstyle, or a striking outfit. These small touches will help you shine even brighter.

Engage only in physical activities that you truly enjoy. Most importantly, they bring you joy and a sense of strength.

Treat yourself to a “mini celebration” every day. It can be anything, from a delicious cup of coffee to a meeting with friends. Make sure to carve out time for yourself, your hobbies, and your pleasures.

The 6th house in Virgo

For this placement, organization and daily planning are essential. Creating lists and planning tasks can be very helpful. It reduces your anxiety and helps you feel more productive.

Taking care of your mental health is extremely important. Even small practices like meditation or breathing exercises can be beneficial. Keeping a gratitude journal can also be helpful.

Health is one of the main focuses of this placement. A balanced diet and moderate physical activity are crucial for Virgo in the 6th house.

Minimalism and order at home are very important for people with this placement. A clean and cozy space is a part of a healing routine.

Self-care rituals, evening relaxation, and other such practices will help restore energy.

One of the healing rituals for this placement is learning. Whether it's taking courses, reading books, or something else, it keeps you sharp and energized.

The 6th house in Libra

For the 6th house in Libra, it is crucial to establish balance in your daily routine. Try to create a schedule that includes time for work, rest, and personal pleasures.

For the Libra sign, beauty is very important, so dedicate time to beauty rituals and self-care.

Organize your workspace and living area in a way that incorporates elements of beauty and comfort.

Your diet should not only be healthy but also aesthetically pleasing. Enjoy the process of savoring your meals.

Since balance and harmony are of great importance to Libra, practicing them on all levels is essential. Meditation and breathing exercises are particularly well-suited for this placement.

Remember to seek inspiration and enjoy the beautiful things in life. Engaging in creative activities can also be incredibly healing.

The 6th house in Scorpio

Psychological cleansing is crucial for the 6th house in Scorpio to make space for emotional transformation. This can manifest in daily life through practices such as meditation, journaling, or other rituals.

The 6th house in Scorpio signifies a strong connection between the body and emotions, making nutrition an essential part of healing. Intuitive eating is particularly well-suited here.

Any water-related rituals, whether swimming, baths with oils, or something else, have healing power.

Physical activity also plays a transformative role alongside massage therapy.

Try to live each day with the mindful question, "How can I transform today?"

For Scorpio in the 6th house, work should not just be a duty but a place for deep transformation. Learn to let go of work that no longer brings you satisfaction.

Scorpio is the sign of transformation, so it's important to maintain an energetically clean space. Regular cleaning and decluttering will be beneficial.

The 6th house in Sagittarius

Physical activities with an element of freedom, such as cycling, running, or yoga in the park, can be very beneficial. Activities like hiking and climbing might also suit you well.

Sagittarius loves exploring new things, so don’t hesitate to add exotic and unusual dishes to your diet. Try to follow the philosophy of mindful eating and enjoy every meal.

Plan your day while leaving room for spontaneity. Use tools like manifestations and motivational quotes.

For Sagittarius, personal growth is essential, so anything related to self-development will be helpful, whether it’s reading or immersing yourself in other cultures.

Sagittarius is a traveler, so try exploring new routes even within your city. Regular trips, if possible, will also be highly beneficial.

The 6th house in Capricorn

A detailed daily plan can be very beneficial. Capricorn loves structuring everything, so having a well-planned day is important.

Regular physical exercise is useful as it teaches discipline and responsibility.

Spend more time outdoors in nature to feel connected to it.

Take care of your bone and joint health (which Capricorn rules), specifically by adding calcium- and magnesium-rich foods to your diet.

Nutritious, wholesome food is essential. Try to eat at the same time every day.

Regular massages to relieve tension, especially in the back and neck area, can be helpful.

To feel productive, try to develop the habit of completing even small tasks daily. However, be cautious and remember that it's important to let go of guilt for "not being productive enough." Striking a balance between rest and work is crucial.

The 6th house in Aquarius

For the 6th house in Aquarius, it is essential to create a routine that remains diverse and engaging. Try changing the sequence of tasks or introducing something new to maintain interest.

Aquarius rules technology, so using modern apps and gadgets for health tracking can be beneficial—for example, a pedometer, fitness tracker, or meditation app.

Since Aquarius is a collective sign, participating in group activities of any kind can be highly beneficial.

This sign is also open to experimenting with unique sports, whether it’s dance aerobics or aerial yoga.

It’s very important to relax the mind through mindfulness practices, such as reading inspiring literature or engaging in other mentally stimulating activities.

Make sure to leave room for freedom in your schedule—allow yourself the flexibility to change plans unexpectedly.

The 6th house in Pisces

It is important for you to start and end your day calmly—without rush or stress. Instead of a rigid daily plan, opt for a gentle, flexible approach. Creating a cozy and peaceful atmosphere around you is essential.

Pisces is a highly spiritual sign, so meditation, mantras, prayers, and breathing techniques can be especially beneficial.

Water-related rituals are also helpful, whether it’s salt baths or swimming.

Support your mental health through creativity. Allow yourself to express your artistic side on a daily basis.

Since Pisces is deeply connected to music, don’t deny yourself the pleasure of listening to your favorite tunes or meditating with healing sounds.

Pisces thrives with slow, flowing physical activities, such as swimming, yoga, and Pilates.

Additionally, getting enough sleep is crucial for the 6th house in Pisces.

This placement also requires daily moments of solitude, where you can be alone with yourself and recharge your energy.

#astrology #astro #natal chart #astro observations #birth chart #astro notes #astrology posts #zodiac #6th house

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harryssyndrome · 5 months ago

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Kiwi baby! | h.s 🥝

Summery: Harry’s wife surprises him during Kiwi with the best news ever.

Word count: 3.2k || Masterlist 🍉🍓❤️

The gif and the ai image are both mine! Don’t you dare steal it! I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE EITHER OF THEM OR STEAL MY WORK!!!

On a kind note, I hope you enjoy reading!!! I love this one-shot sm <333 I couldn’t wait to write it the whole night ever since I got the idea. This is probably my most favorite piece of work ever. I guess I’ll make this a part of ‘Our Little World: Documentary series’. REQUEST ARE OPEN! 🌊

Posted on: November 24th, 2024. (IST)

Tag-list: @angeldavis777 @fruity-harry || TAGLIST OPEN 💌

The evening sky above the stadium was painted in deep shades of purple, and the crowd beneath it surged with energy, every soul gathered to see him perform. Harry Styles was in his element, bathed in bright lights, his smile as wide as the stage itself, his voice carrying through the open air. The music was loud, vibrant, and electric—Kiwi blasting through the speakers as Harry moved across the stage, every step laced with the confidence and excitement that only live performances could stir.

His outfit tonight was nothing short of breathtaking—a red and black Gucci harlequin-patterned suit that shimmered under the lights, accentuating his every movement. The slickness of his hair, now a little longer than usual, fell just enough to brush his forehead as he swung his body to the rhythm of the song. Fans were ecstatic, their voices harmonizing with his in perfect unity, shouting the words to Kiwi as if their very existence depended on it.

The crowd threw water at him, a playful and typical reaction to the intense heat of the show. Harry, ever the entertainer, caught one of the bottles and used it to douse them back with a mischievous grin. The energy was alive in a way only concerts could make him feel. He laughed along with his fans, feeling that familiar thrill that had kept him addicted to this life—the adoration of strangers, the pulse of the music, and the sheer joy of performing.

But amidst the buzz of lights, the sweat dripping from his skin, and the joy in the air, there was a quiet thought that kept tugging at him. YN. His wife. She wasn’t in the VIP stand like usual. He could always rely on her to be there, her smile always radiating at him from the crowd, her presence a constant comfort. But tonight, the spot where she always stood was empty. The concern he tried to shake off kept creeping into his mind, distracting him in the back of his head, even as his heart continued to race with excitement from the show.

He couldn’t help but glance over to the section where she usually sat, hoping to catch a glimpse of her face, knowing it would soothe the small, gnawing worry he felt. But the space remained empty.

His foot tapped the beat of the song beneath him, trying to focus on the crowd once more. He tossed the water bottle at the fans, his fingers brushing the cold plastic. The adrenaline kept him high, kept him in the moment, but his gaze drifted again.

Where was she?

YN had been a little quieter than usual in the past few days. He hadn’t pushed for any answers, but now he found himself wondering if something was wrong. Maybe she was feeling unwell. Maybe she just wanted to have a quiet night in. Still, the thought of not seeing her there tonight gnawed at him.

His voice still rang out with the words of the song, but his mind was divided between the stage and the empty stand. He kept looking—one eye on the crowd, the other scanning for her. And just as his next verse was coming up, he saw it.

There she was.

Right in the front row—so close to the barricade, she was almost on the stage.

His breath caught in his throat.

She wasn’t in the VIP section. No, she was right there. In the heart of the crowd. The waves of people parted like the Red Sea for her, and there she stood—holding a sign. Her figure illuminated by the stage lights, her long hair falling in waves over her shoulders, a look of pure joy and love in her eyes.

For a moment, everything else fell away—the music, the fans, the lights—all of it was distant. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her. The sign she held was simple, but to him, it was everything.

“I’m having your baby” it read, scrawled across a bright poster board in bold, handwritten letters.

He froze. His heart nearly stopped.

She’s pregnant.

He blinked, thinking he must be imagining it, but no—she was smiling at him now, holding up the sign for him to see, her eyes locked on his. There was no mistaking it. YN—his wife—was carrying their baby.

Harry’s pulse raced as the flood of emotions hit him. His heart thudded against his chest like it wanted to burst free. The happiness, the disbelief, the excitement—it all rushed through him like a tidal wave, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt beneath his feet.

He had wanted this. He had dreamed of this. Of being a father. Of having a child with YN. They had talked about it before, casually, in quiet moments after dinner, while walking through the park, in bed at night. But it had never been a “right now” kind of conversation. They had agreed that when it happened, it happened. And now… it had happened.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and his throat tightened. The emotions, overwhelming and beautiful, blurred his vision, but all he could do was stand there on the stage, dumbstruck by the sight of his wife, her belly now holding the future they had always dreamed of.

In a rush of pure joy, Harry stumbled forward, intent on reaching her, to hold her, to kiss her, to tell her how much he loved her. But as he took a step toward her, he didn’t see the puddle of water gathering at the edge of the stage, a result of the fans tossing their bottles earlier.

And then, it happened.

His foot slipped.

There was a split second of disbelief before Harry lost his footing completely, crashing down to the stage in an ungraceful heap. The crowd gasped collectively, their moment of joy paused in shock. But Harry, ever the professional, couldn’t help but laugh at himself. His laughter echoed through the microphone as he quickly scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, still chuckling as he shook off the fall. The fans laughed along with him, the tension breaking as they cheered even louder, impressed by his quick recovery. Harry took a deep breath, regaining his balance and composure. He grabbed the microphone again, still laughing, and gave the crowd a playful wink.

“You okay, Harry?” someone from the crew called out, teasing him from the side.

“Yeah, I’m good! Just a little slippery, that’s all!” Harry replied, still grinning.

His gaze immediately returned to YN. She was still standing at the barricade, her sign still held high, her face alight with joy, her smile as radiant as the sun. It was in that moment that Harry realized he couldn’t wait any longer. The song was still playing behind him, the familiar rhythm pulsing through his body, but he couldn’t focus on the lyrics anymore. Not with the overwhelming emotions flooding his heart.

He took a step forward, slowly walking toward the edge of the stage, his eyes still locked on YN, who was holding his gaze with the same intensity. With each step, his heart pounded harder in his chest.

And before he even knew it, his knees buckled beneath him, and Harry collapsed to the stage once more, but this time, it was with pure emotion.

He covered his face with his hands, unable to contain the tears that had begun to fall freely down his cheeks. After a few moments, Harry wiped his eyes, clearing the tears away as he stood up once more. His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke into the mic, his words trembling with happiness:

“My wife is having my baby!” he shouted, his voice trembling. “It’s all my business!”

The crowd erupted in pure, ecstatic noise, the roar of the fans filling the stadium as Harry remained on his knees, the overwhelming weight of the moment too much to bear. His chest was heaving, his body shaking as the reality of the news consumed him.

“Is that real?” a fan shouted.

“Yes, it’s real!” Harry replied, laughing through his tears. “I’m going to be a dad! A dad!” He repeated the words as if he needed to hear them again, the joy overwhelming every part of him.

The fans roared in approval, the noise a chaotic symphony of celebration. But Harry didn’t care about any of that now. He didn’t care about the performance or the crowd or the cameras recording every moment. All he could think about was YN.

His mind was consumed by thoughts of the future—the life they would build together, the family they would raise. He quickly stood to his feet, wiping his eyes, and glanced once more at YN.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Harry dropped the mic to the stage and sprinted toward the barricade, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Harry could feel the heat of the stage lights burning against his skin, but they didn’t matter. The noise of the crowd was deafening, but it was like a distant hum. His heart was the loudest thing he could hear, thrumming in his chest, pumping through his veins with an almost frantic rhythm. His legs carried him toward YN like they had a mind of their own. He was driven by a force he couldn’t describe, propelled by the overwhelming joy of the moment.

Fans parted for him as he made his way to the front of the stage, their cheers rising to a fever pitch as they realized what was happening. Harry didn’t hear their excitement—he only heard the steady beat of his heart, louder now than the music, than anything else in the world.

YN. His wife. The love of his life. The mother of his child.

As he approached the barricades, YN’s smile never wavered. She was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes shining with excitement, her hand placed lovingly over her flat belly. As soon as Harry reached her, he lifted her into his arms, spinning her around in a joyous embrace, laughing like a child. The crowd cheered even louder, their love for Harry and YN growing with every passing second.

She had always known that he wanted this more than anything. They both had. But now it was real. She was carrying their baby, and everything about their lives was about to change.

“YNN…” Harry’s voice caught in his throat as he reached her. He placed her back on the ground, eyes never leaving hers. She was glowing—absolutely radiant in the soft light of the stage, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as his arms reached out to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. The crowd cheered louder, but Harry only had eyes for YN, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his.

“I love you,” Harry whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”

YN pulled back slightly to look at him, her hand resting on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart under her fingers. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her smile wide and full of joy, matching his own. “I know. I can’t believe it either,” she whispered, voice trembling just slightly. “I wanted to tell you in the cutest way possible, but you’ve already made it the most unforgettable moment of my life.”

Harry’s breath caught again, a lump forming in his throat as he looked down at her belly, still so small but already holding the life they had created together. His hands rested gently on her sides as he crouched down slightly, his eyes never leaving her. He placed his lips softly on her stomach, his kiss a promise—a vow. The fans around them cheered again, but this time, it was just background noise to Harry.

“I’m going to be the best dad for you,” Harry muttered against her belly, his voice filled with awe. “I promise.”

YN’s fingers threaded through his hair as she smiled down at him, her heart swelling with love. “I know you will be. I’ve always known,” she whispered, her voice full of faith and affection.

“You’re going to be the best dad our baby could ever ask for.”

As Harry pulled back from the kiss, he stood to his full height and stared at YN, his hands still resting on her waist, his expression filled with wonder. His lips curled into a grin, and he couldn’t resist pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before meeting her eyes once more.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion, as if the words didn’t fully make sense to him yet. But the more he said them, the more real it became. “You and me. We’re going to have a little baby.”

YN’s eyes sparkled, the tears now freely falling down her cheeks. She looked at him with a mix of love, gratitude, and joy. She reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing gently against the stubble on his jaw. “It’s happening, Harry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s happening.”

Harry smiled wider, and without thinking, he reached down, cupping her face with both hands. He kissed her then—slow, gentle, tender—a kiss that held all of his joy, his love, his gratitude, his hope for their future. This was more than a kiss; it was a promise, a symbol of everything they were about to become. Harry pulled away slowly, his forehead resting against hers as they both tried to catch their breath.

“I can’t wait,” Harry murmured, his lips still grazing hers as he spoke. “I can’t wait to hold our baby. To be there for you. For everything.”

The love in his voice was enough to make YN’s heart swell to bursting. He kissed her again, softer this time, and then looked back at the crowd.

Harry wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around again as he laughed.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

YN laughed, her fingers threading through his damp curls. “I love you too. Always.”

Harry set her down gently, his hands never leaving her as he looked into her eyes. “You’re my everything, YNN. You and this baby—you’re everything.”

Tears slid down YN’s cheeks, and she nodded, her heart full. “And you’re ours.”

Harry dropped to his knees once more, pressing his lips to her stomach in a gesture so tender it made YN’s breath catch.

“Thank you for making my life so much beautiful,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I’ll love this baby with everything I’ve got. And I’ll love you even more.”

YN’s hands rested on his shoulders, her fingers squeezing gently. “You already are, Harry.”

The evening continued around them, but for Harry and YN, time seemed to slow. The music had become a distant hum, the chatter of the fans a soft murmur in the background. All that mattered was each other.

As they stood at the barricades, Harry reached up to take YN’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. He leaned in once more, pressing a kiss to her lips, soft and slow, as if savoring every moment, every sensation. His heart felt full to bursting. He had everything he had ever wanted—YN, their love, and now, the promise of their baby.

He felt as if his entire life had led up to this point—this single, beautiful moment. The rush of emotions from earlier hadn’t yet subsided, but now there was a calmness in him, a peace. He smiled as he looked down at YN’s hand in his, then back into her eyes.

“I know we’ve been through so much already,” Harry said quietly, his voice full of emotion. “But I feel like the best part of our journey is just beginning.”

YN nodded, her smile soft and full of love. “I feel the same way.”

Harry squeezed her hand once more, then stepped back slightly, turning his attention back to the crowd. “I’m going to be a dad,” he said out loud, his voice full of awe and happiness. He turned to face the audience, the microphone still lying on the stage. “Everyone, this is the best moment of my life,” he said, his voice carrying the emotion of the words. “My wife, YN, is having my baby.”

The moment was surreal. The fans were still screaming, the cameras still rolling, but none of it mattered. For Harry, nothing would ever top this moment. It wasn’t just another performance or another stage—it was the night his greatest dream began to come true.

As they stood there together, the crowd began to chant, “Baby Styles! Baby Styles!”

Harry threw his head back in laughter, turning to wave at the audience. “You lot are mad!” he called out, but his face said it all—he was over the moon.

The crowd continued on cheering wildly, but Harry’s focus was on the woman in front of him. She was glowing, every inch of her radiating love and joy, and he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive.

He leaned in to kiss her once more, this time a gentle, loving kiss on her lips. He felt everything he had ever hoped for in that kiss—his future, his family, and the love of his life, all wrapped up in one perfect moment.

As the kiss ended, he pulled back, his forehead resting against hers. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too,” YN whispered back.

They stood there for a moment longer, the world around them continuing on, but nothing mattered now but each other, and the new life they were about to bring into the world. Together.

The fans’ cheers faded into the background as Harry held YN’s hand tightly, the two of them standing side by side, facing the future with all the love and hope that their hearts could hold.

Harry stood up and kissed her again, his heart still racing, his mind still in a daze, but in the best way possible. His dream of being a dad was coming true, and no matter what came next, he knew he had everything he ever needed right here, in this moment. He knew one thing for sure: their love was only just beginning

And with that, Harry Styles was no longer just a rock star on stage—he was going to be a dad, and that was the greatest role he’d ever play.

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muletia · 4 months ago

Note

you've mentioned pegging optimus until he's rambling about getting pregnant, but I NEED u to go more into detail about it. literally foaming at the mouth at the idea of almost taunting him "hmm, any deeper and I'll get you pregnant". him just losing it and begging to be sparked, so u fuck him until he's drooling and borderline incoherent, but still moaning about getting knocked up 😊

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦 ✧˖°

pegging tfp optimus would fix me actually

cw: valveplug, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!optimus, pegging, l-bomb, breeding kink, reader uses a strap

word count: 750

He feels too much. Too intensely. Processor has long dismissed logic, replacing coherent thoughts with mindless, shapeless ones resembling tangled threads. Now, there is no responsibility; the stress of gnawing problems has been replaced by pure ecstasy. Feels it everywhere, even at the tips of his digits, which scrape at the berth in search of a nonexistent anchor. His pedes behave similarly. Thighs tremble from the overwhelming pleasure you so generously bestow upon him. He knows he is not making your task easier, but he cannot stop the quivering — proof of how thoroughly you have ruined him.

“You’re doing great, darling,” you praise him, even though Optimus is just laying beneath you looking pretty. This time, the pleasure is all his. “Keep it up, and perhaps we’ll truly end up with a child.”

At the mere mention of having offspring with you, his back arches, and his helm tilts back. Once again, he makes your work harder; feels it in the sudden change in rhythm deep within his valve. But he cannot help it. Besides, you quickly prove how perfectly harmonized you are by adapting to him. You move closer, pressing your hips more firmly against his. Your thighs meet his, smearing themselves with transfluid — a testament to the length of your shared indulgence.

“[Name], ah…” he tries to speak, but it does not come easily. Processor fails to align with his voice box. “Please…”

He cannot finish the sentence when you suddenly pick up speed, thrusting with full force into his poor, battered valve. It looks swollen and is utterly filled with blue fluid, which drips off your fake cock, but this poses no obstacle for Optimus. Despite the sweet torment, he does not want it to end. Not until he is certain that new life will be created within him, ignoring the absurdity and impossibility of it all.

“What’s the matter, darling?” you ask. Is it cruelty, or are you teasing innocently? He cannot tell, but he does not hold it against you. As long as you are inside him, you can do anything you want.

“[Name]…” he tries again. “Nhnn, I beg you… ah! Please, give me a sparkling! Hah, please! I want… I-I want to be sparked…”

Tears pool in the corners of his optics. You are also certain that the glistening substance around his mouth is his equivalent of saliva.

Holy shit. The great Optimus Prime reduced to a begging, drooling, mindless wreck. Thanks to you. The sight before you is entirely your doing. All it took was once mentioning the topic of children and pregnancy, casually letting it slip during the climax that you would love to have a child with him. As a fantasy, a byproduct of diving too deep into domspace. And he took the bait, completely enchanted by the idea of you knocking him up, even though he knows it is impossible.

Well, for such a sight, it was worth feeding his delusions.

“Since you are asking so nicely…” you murmur.

Your eyes meet, and at that moment, you grab the blue armor plates on his hips and push the silicone cock deeper until you are pressed tightly together. Optimus roars, overwhelmed by you, but he still seems to draw closer, craving more. He wants to become one, to unite in the most intimate way.

“I… I love you,” he mumbles. Your gazes cross again.

“Oh yes, I’m getting you pregnant, big boy.”

You move your hips again. This time faster, leaving no room for doubt about your intentions. You will break the laws of biology if you must.

He feels you relentlessly pumping his own transfluid back into him, as if to assure him you will fulfill his illusory wish.

“Ah, yes! T-thank you, thank you…” he whines. His back arches again, digits claw ferociously at the berth.

He does not know how much longer he can hold out before his body gives up entirely and he won't be able to move even his optics. But he wants to savor this. The fleeting moment, because he does not know when the next one will come. And your kindness, your willingness to tend to him and satisfy his warped, corporeal needs.

“I want… I want a sparkling, ah! with you,” he moans, lost in the subspace. “Give me one, nhnn [Name], I beg you!”

“I love you too,” you pant.

More transfluid spills from his valve, but Optimus gives you no sign to stop, still focused on his mission. Babbling nonsense about pregnancy and having offspring. Preferably several.

#transformers x reader #optimus x reader #obsessed!optimus #valveplug

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odileeclipse · 2 months ago

Text

In the Presence of Truth {"Sage of Truth" (SMC) x Reader} PT 2

<<<Previous Next>>>

Shadow Milk Cookie settled into the seat beside you with an air of quiet amusement, his presence both grounding and unnerving. Up close, the details of his mismatched gaze became all the more striking, the eerie glow of his cerulean and gold eyes holding an intensity that seemed to peel back layers of pretense. It wasn’t just that he saw it felt as though he understood, as though he could pluck your scattered thoughts straight from the air and weave them into something coherent. “Let us begin,” he said, his voice smooth yet commanding. You swallowed hard, your parchment still a mess of ink-stained errors, a battlefield of numbers and theories that refused to align. Shadow Milk Cookie glanced at it, his expression unreadable as he took in the frantic scrawls. Rather than offering immediate critique, he his finger along the parchment’s edge, eyes flickering back toward you. “You are thinking too rigidly,” he observed. “You attempt to fit the answer into a predefined shape rather than allowing the concept to form naturally.” You blinked. “I… don’t understand.” Professor Almond Custard Cookie leaned against his desk, watching the exchange with wary interest. “You wouldn’t be the first,” he murmured under his breath.

Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled softly, the sound low and knowing. “Knowledge is not meant to be forcefully contained. It must be understood, internalized. Here, allow me to demonstrate.” With an effortless movement, he reached for a fresh parchment and quill, his elegant script forming a diagram an intricate illustration of magical resonance fields under celestial influence. His explanations came in measured, deliberate tones, never rushing, never expecting you to grasp concepts immediately. “You view mana stabilization as a fixed equation,” he continued, tapping a specific point on the diagram. “But it is, in truth, a dynamic balance. Think of it like… breathing. Inhaling, exhaling. Expansion, contraction. There is rhythm. A natural cadence.” You hesitated, processing his words. No scholar had ever explained it that way before. Everything up until now had been rigid formulas, memorization, the pressure to solve rather than to understand. Shadow Milk Cookie was asking you to feel the answer, not just recite it.

Tentatively, you reached for your quill, mirroring the motions he had drawn. Your lines were shakier, less confident, but as you followed his guidance, the equation began to make sense in a way it never had before. Professor Almond Custard Cookie, arms crossed, let out a thoughtful hum. “I must admit, that’s… an unusual approach.” Shadow Milk Cookie merely smiled. “Truth is rarely found in convention alone.” For the first time in weeks, the weight pressing on your chest eased. You weren’t miraculously enlightened, nor had you suddenly mastered the subject but for the first time, you felt like you were on the right path. “Shall we continue?” the Sage of Truth prompted, tilting his head ever so slightly. You inhaled deeply, steadying yourself, then nodded. “Yes.”

Shadow Milk Cookie…no, the Sage of Truth sat with a composed patience that made your nerves tangle further. Even as you hesitated, he remained steadfast, his gaze unwavering, expectant yet unpressuring. The weight of his presence pressed down on you, not in suffocation, but in silent encouragement. There was no condescension, no mockery just pure, unwavering certainty that you would learn. That you could learn. You gripped the edges of your parchment tighter, struggling to find where to even begin. Your thoughts swirled like ink spilled over a page, spreading outward in a chaotic mess. The Principle of Arcane Equilibrium. Lunar mana stabilization. Celestial harmonics. You had seen these terms in your notes, had copied them from the board, but the meaning behind them remained just out of reach. The Sage of Truth leaned forward slightly, steepling his fingers. “Let us begin at the foundation,” he said smoothly. “Tell me, what do you understand about arcane resonance?”

You swallowed, feeling your professor’s eyes on you as well. It was a simple question. One you should be able to answer. And yet, your thoughts stumbled, grasping at fragmented knowledge that refused to piece itself together. “I-It has to do with mana flow,” you started hesitantly, shifting in your seat. “How it interacts with… external forces?” You winced at how uncertain you sounded. Shadow Milk Cookie did not look disappointed. If anything, he looked intrigued. “A fair starting point,” he mused. “However, ‘interacts with external forces’ is far too vague. Be specific what forces? How do they affect mana flow?” You floundered, scanning your notes for an answer, but all you saw were half-finished scribbles and hastily written corrections. “I-” The words caught in your throat. Professor Almond Custard Cookie sighed heavily. “(Y/N) Cookie…” His tone was weary, but Shadow Milk Cookie merely raised a hand, silencing him. “I see now,” the Sage of Truth murmured, tilting his head slightly as if you were a puzzle to be examined. “It is not ignorance that holds you back. It is hesitation.” You blinked. “Hesitation?” “You grasp at knowledge but do not claim it.” He tapped a gloved finger against the wooden desk. “You doubt yourself the moment you speak. You are afraid of being wrong, and in that fear, you deny yourself the chance to be right.”

Your breath caught in your throat. How… how had he seen through you so easily? Your professor had pointed out your struggles before, but never quite like this. Never so precisely. Shadow Milk Cookie continued, his voice calm but firm. “Truth is not found in perfect answers, but in the willingness to seek them. Even in error, there is progress.” His heterochromatic gaze bore into you, gentle yet inescapable. “Do you truly wish to learn?” You clenched your hands into fists. “Of course, I do,” you said, the words leaving you with more force than intended. His lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Then let us move forward.” He gestured toward your notes. “Forget perfection. Forget your fear of being incorrect. Simply tell me what you think the answer is?” Your throat felt dry. Your mind raced with possibilities, most of which you were certain were wrong. But his words echoed in your head. Truth is not found in perfect answers, but in the willingness to seek them.

You inhaled slowly. “Mana flow is affected by celestial cycles… The lunar phases alter the frequency of arcane resonance, which means…” You paused, daring to glance up at him. He nodded, encouraging you to continue. “…which means that during a lunar eclipse, the lack of direct celestial influence causes the mana field to destabilize. So, to stabilize it… you’d need to use a principle that counteracts that absence.” Your voice wavered, uncertainty gnawing at you. “Is that… the Principle of Arcane Equilibrium?” For a moment, there was only silence. Then, Shadow Milk Cookie’s smile widened ever so slightly. “Now that,” he said, his voice brimming with approval, “was a well-reasoned answer.” Your breath left you in a sharp exhale. He wasn’t dismissing you. He wasn’t telling you that you were wrong outright. For the first time in what felt like forever, you had strung together a response that held weight. That held potential.

Professor Almond Custard Cookie let out a soft huff, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “I say the same thing for weeks, and yet he gets through to you in a single conversation.” You flushed. “I-It’s not that I wasn’t listening to you!” You could only feel the pit in your stomach growing…maybe not speaking was better. Every word spoken felt like one more dig at your grave…you practically had one foot in. Your professor merely waved a hand. “Oh, I’m not offended. Frankly, if it takes the Sage of Truth himself to make you finally push past that mental block, so be it.” He shot Shadow Milk Cookie a look. “You’re stuck with them now.” You stiffened. “W-Wait” Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled. “Ah, how fortunate.” His eyes gleamed with something unreadable. “It seems our discussions have only just begun.” Your stomach twisted. This was going to be a very, very long mentorship.

The weight of the evening’s lesson still pressed heavily upon you as you finally stepped out of your professor's office, your parchment clutched tightly in your hands. The cold evening air of Blueberry Yogurt Academy greeted you with a sharp breeze, carrying the faint scent of parchment, melted wax, and the lingering traces of magical incense from the hallways. You exhaled, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. You had survived. Somehow. Behind you, Professor Almond Custard Cookie remained in his office, no doubt relieved to finally have a moment’s peace. You could still hear his parting words in your head "You’re making progress. Keep at it." though his voice had been tinged with exasperation. Whether he truly believed you were improving or if he was merely grateful to have you off his hands for the night, you weren’t sure. What you were sure of, however, was that walking back to your dorm in the dimly lit corridors of the Academy gave you far too much time to reflect on the night’s events. Your thoughts circled around your earlier conversation, looping in a relentless spiral.

"You doubt yourself the moment you speak."

"Truth is not found in perfect answers, but in the willingness to seek them."

"Do you truly wish to learn?"

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around your notes. The Sage of Truth no, Shadow Milk Cookie had spoken to you as if your struggles were not a burden, but a simple step in the process of learning. As if you were not lesser for failing. He had made it sound so obvious, as if understanding should be as natural as breathing. And yet, even now, you weren’t sure if you believed it. Your footsteps echoed softly against the ancient stone floors as you turned the corner toward the dormitories. The corridors of Blueberry Yogurt Academy were eerily beautiful at this hour, bathed in the pale glow of enchanted lanterns that floated gently overhead. The stained glass windows, depicting past scholars and grand celestial phenomena, cast fragmented reflections against the polished floors. The halls were nearly empty, save for the occasional scholar or staff member drifting by, their murmured discussions fading into the night. Then, you noticed him. A few steps ahead, walking in the same direction as you, was Shadow Milk Cookie. You froze mid-step.

His long robes, embroidered with ancient sigils and lined with deep celestial blues, trailed elegantly behind him. The soft glow of the lanterns illuminated his features sharp yet composed, his heterochromatic gaze focused forward in quiet contemplation. There was an effortless grace to his stride, a presence that commanded both reverence and curiosity. He walked like one who belonged in the halls of academia, as if knowledge itself guided his every step. You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. It was one thing to sit across from him in a study session, where his attention had been directed solely at you. That alone had been overwhelming. But now, watching him in his element, unbothered by the presence of others, was something else entirely. He was a legend within the Academy. A beacon of intellect, respected by scholars far beyond these halls. Countless students, yourself included, had looked up to him, studied his theories, marveled at the sheer depth of his understanding. He was a figure so revered that it seemed almost unnatural to see him doing something as mundane as simply… walking back to his quarters.

You barely realized you had slowed your pace, allowing more distance between you. The last thing you wanted was to seem as if you were following him. Unfortunately, it seemed he had already noticed your presence. "You need not linger in the shadows, you know," he mused, his voice smooth, carrying just enough amusement to make your stomach twist. You nearly tripped over your own feet. "I wasn’t!" He stopped, turning slightly to glance at you, and you felt yourself shrink under the weight of his gaze. There was no judgment in his expression, only quiet interest. "Our paths align, it seems," he continued, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Surely, there is no harm in walking together?" There was a simple logic to his words. A logic that did little to calm your nerves. Your hands tightened around your parchment as you forced yourself to nod. "O-Of course not," you managed to say, though the words felt clumsy on your tongue. He resumed his pace, and you hesitantly stepped forward to match it, though you kept a respectable distance between you.

For a moment, silence stretched between you, save for the sound of your footsteps echoing against the stone. You risked a glance at him, taking in the way his gaze remained steady, lost in thought. Even in stillness, there was an air of quiet brilliance about him an unshakable confidence in the way he carried himself. You wondered, not for the first time, what it must be like to think as he did. To see the world through his eyes, where every fragment of knowledge seemed to fall perfectly into place. …How had someone like him ended up offering to help someone like you? Right…Because the professor insisted so. You imagine it’s because he was at his wits end with you. The thought made your stomach churn. "You are quiet," Shadow Milk Cookie observed, not unkindly. "Is your mind burdened by today’s lesson?" You flinched. "I…Um- No! I mean- Yes? I mean…" You let out a quiet groan, rubbing your temple. "I just… I still don’t understand why you would bother." He stopped walking. You barely had time to react before his gaze was on you once more, sharper now, as if you had just presented him with a particularly intriguing puzzle. "Why wouldn’t I?" he asked simply. You stared at him. "Because you’re you." The words left your mouth before you could stop them, but they were true. He was him. A scholar unlike any other. The Sage of Truth. A role model to so many. And you were… you. He regarded you for a long moment. Then, to your utter disbelief, he chuckled. It was a soft sound, quiet yet unmistakably amused. "Ah," he mused, shaking his head. "You place me upon a pedestal so high that you fail to see the truth, even when it stands before you." You stiffened. "What truth?" "That I am merely a scholar, much like yourself." He stepped forward slightly, and you felt your breath catch. "I seek understanding. I seek knowledge. And I seek to share that knowledge, just as those before me have done. That is all." You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away. "You believe I stand beyond your reach," he continued, his voice quieter now. "But tell me… Is that not an illusion of your own making?" The words settled deep within you, leaving you momentarily speechless. He did not wait for an answer. Instead, he resumed walking, as if his statement had been nothing more than a passing remark. You, however, were left rooted in place, your thoughts spinning wildly. Was it truly an illusion? Or had you simply convinced yourself that it was?

You hesitated for a long moment, his words lingering in your mind like an unsolved equation.

"Is that not an illusion of your own making?"

Something about the way he had said it so effortlessly, so assuredly made you feel as though you had been caught in the act of deceiving yourself. As if the way you saw him, the way you saw yourself, was nothing more than a fragile illusion you had crafted without realizing it. And yet… You gripped your parchment a little tighter, your steps quickening until you fell into pace beside him once more. "If…" Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to speak. "If illusions are so easily made, then… isn’t truth an illusion in itself?" For the first time since the conversation had begun, Shadow Milk Cookie stopped walking entirely. You nearly stumbled forward from the suddenness of it, but when you turned to face him, his expression had shifted. Gone was the amused scholar indulging in a casual discussion. In his place stood the Sage of Truth, eyes gleaming with something deeper something unreadable. Slowly, he turned to face you fully. "An illusion…?" he echoed, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. Your throat tightened. Perhaps you had spoken too boldly, questioning something so fundamental to him. But it was too late to take it back now. "You said I place you on a pedestal," you said carefully. "That I see something in you that isn’t real. That my perception of you is just… an illusion of my own making. But… isn’t truth also shaped by perception? Isn’t it possible that what we see as truth is just another illusion? Something we convince ourselves of?"

Silence stretched between you. The Academy halls, once vast and endless, now felt small and confined within the weight of the question hanging in the air. The lanterns above flickered gently, their glow casting shifting shadows against the stone walls. Then, to your utter shock, Shadow Milk Cookie smiled. Not his usual, knowing smile the kind that came when he had already deciphered the answer before the question had even been asked. No, this was something else. Something closer to satisfaction. "Ah," he breathed, eyes alight with intrigue. "Now you are asking the right questions." Your breath hitched. He clasped his hands behind his back, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Tell me, then," he said, his voice smooth, measured. "If truth were an illusion, then what makes it different from any other falsehood? What separates reality from deception?" You opened your mouth, then shut it again. How were you supposed to answer that? His gaze never wavered, patient yet expectant. He was not dismissing your question. No, he was indulging it feeding it, waiting to see where you would take it. The realization sent a shiver down your spine. Even now, after hours of struggle, after making a fool of yourself in the lecture hall and in office hours, he was still encouraging you. Still pushing you to think, to question. Not because he doubted you, but because he wanted to see if you could reach the answer on your own. Your hands clenched at your sides. Perhaps… perhaps that was the difference. Perhaps truth was not a static thing, an unshakable force that simply existed. Perhaps it was something sought after, something earned.

A beat of silence stretched between you, the weight of his question pressing heavily upon your thoughts. Try as you might, no answer came, not one you were confident in, at least. You swallowed hard, gripping your parchment as though it might somehow grant you clarity. Your mind twisted and turned, sifting through everything you had ever learned, everything you had ever questioned. But no matter how you approached it, the answer remained just out of reach. Slowly, you exhaled. Then, with great reluctance, you admitted, "I… don’t know." Shadow Milk Cookie watched you carefully, his expression unreadable. He did not scoff, nor did he look disappointed. If anything, there was something almost expectant in his gaze.

You hesitated before speaking again, your voice quieter this time.

"When…" You shifted your weight, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. "When is our next tutoring session?" The moment the words left your mouth, you wanted to sink into the floor. What were you even saying? You had spent the entire evening resisting his help, yet here you were, asking for more? But it was too late to take it back now. Shadow Milk Cookie blinked once, then let out a soft chuckle. "Ah…" His smile was small but unmistakable. "So you wish to continue?" You fidgeted, heat creeping up your neck. "I mean…" You cleared your throat. "I still can’t answer your question. And I doubt I’ll figure it out on my own." His eyes gleamed, a knowing amusement dancing within them. "Perhaps not yet." Your fingers curled around your parchment. "So… when?" For a brief moment, he simply observed you, his heterochromatic gaze searching. Then, with a slow nod, he said, "Tomorrow. Same time." Your breath caught. So soon? You had expected him to at least hesitate, to question if it was worth his time to continue tutoring a student who struggled so much. And yet, he had answered without a second thought. He had already decided. You nodded stiffly, unsure of what else to say. "Alright… Tomorrow, then." "Indeed." He inclined his head slightly, the candlelight catching the silver edges of his robes. Then, without another word, he turned forward once more, resuming his steady pace down the corridor. You lingered for a moment, watching him, still unable to fully grasp how you had ended up here. The Sage of Truth, the scholar admired by all, had willingly taken you under his wing. And, whether you were ready or not… Tomorrow, it would begin again.

The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of parchment and old stone as you walked the winding path toward the dormitories. The lamps flickered gently, their glow casting elongated shadows across the cobbled walkways. The Academy was quiet at this hour, only the occasional distant murmur of scholars deep in discussion broke the silence. And yet, despite the stillness, your thoughts churned like a storm. You had asked him when the next tutoring session would be. And he had agreed. The realization sent a fresh wave of regret coursing through you. You wanted to take it back. To insist that you had only spoken in the moment, that you didn’t actually need his help, that you were fine struggling on your own. But you couldn’t. Professor Almond Custard Cookie had already made you his problem. You could still hear your professor’s resigned sigh from earlier, the subtle relief in his voice when the Sage of Truth had offered his guidance. That had been the final decision. The moment Shadow Milk Cookie had taken an interest, your fate had been sealed.

You weren’t just his student now. You were his baggage. And worse, you didn’t want to fail. No matter how humiliating it was to struggle under his piercing gaze, no matter how small you felt in the presence of someone whose mind operated at a level you couldn’t even fathom… you knew the truth. You weren’t going to make it on your own. Your grip tightened around the strap of your bag as you risked another glance at him. He walked with that same effortless grace, his long robes trailing just slightly with each step, his expression thoughtful but unreadable. He didn’t acknowledge your unease, nor did he seem weighed down by the burden of tutoring someone as hopeless as you. Because to him, this wasn’t a burden at all. That, somehow, made it worse. You exhaled slowly, willing your nerves to settle. The dormitories were just ahead. Soon, you could retreat to your room, bury yourself under the weight of your own thoughts, and figure out how you were going to survive this. Because tomorrow, there was no turning back.

The next day the afternoon sun cast long shadows over the courtyard, its warmth doing little to ease the weight pressing on your chest. You sat slouched on a stone bench, a half-eaten pastry in your hands, letting the idle chatter of your friends wash over you. “You’re lucky you weren’t in class earlier,” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie groaned, stretching out beside you. “Professor Caramel Chiffon assigned three new readings. Three. And he hinted at a quiz. An unannounced quiz.” Chai Latte Cookie snorted. “Sounds about right.” Earl Grey Cookie adjusted his coat, ever composed. “Frankly, I don’t understand why you’re complaining. It was a straightforward lecture.” Hazelnut Biscotti rolled his eyes. “Easy for you to say, Mr. ‘I Read Ahead for Fun.’” Chai Latte turned to you then, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, weren’t you supposed to be in that lecture?” You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “…Yeah.” Hazelnut Biscotti sat up, grinning. “You skipped?” Earl Grey frowned slightly. “That’s unlike you.” “I needed a break, okay?” You sighed, rubbing your temple. “I was so lost yesterday that Professor Almond Custard Cookie actually sent me to the Sage of Truth for tutoring.” They went silent. Then Hazelnut Biscotti whistled. “Whoa. That’s, uh… That’s serious.” Chai Latte’s eyes widened. “Wait, the Sage of Truth? Like, Shadow Milk Cookie?” “The one and only,” you muttered, slumping against the stone bench. “And before you say anything, no, I don’t know how this happened. One second I was getting grilled in office hours, and the next, he was standing there, offering to help.” Earl Grey’s expression turned thoughtful. “That’s… quite the opportunity. He doesn’t just tutor anyone.” You groaned. “Yeah, thanks, I know.” Chai Latte leaned in with a sly smile. “And you didn’t immediately pass out from embarrassment?” “Oh, I wanted to,” you admitted. “But now I’m stuck. Professor Almond Custard basically assigned me to him like I’m some kind of lost cause. I can’t back out without looking like an idiot, and I really don’t want to fail.”

Hazelnut Biscotti chuckled. “So what you’re saying is, you’re the Sage of Truth’s baggage now.” You shot him a look. “Please don’t put it like that.” Earl Grey folded his arms. “Well, are you actually going to his tutoring sessions?” “…Yeah.” You exhaled, rubbing the back of your neck. “But I’d rather keep it quiet. The last thing I need is everyone knowing I need extra help, especially from him.” Chai Latte gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell a soul.” “Thanks.” You exhaled. “I just needed a break today. I can’t handle another hour of feeling completely stupid.” “Understandable,” Hazelnut Biscotti said with a shrug. “One bad day is not gonna kill you.” Earl Grey, though still looking skeptical, didn’t push further.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, who had actually blown up the alchemy lab, whether the Academy’s bakery was secretly using illegal enchantments to make their pastries addictive, and speculation about which professor would crack under stress first. It was… nice. Until Hazelnut Biscotti suddenly grinned. “Oh, this is interesting.” You blinked. “What?” Chai Latte hummed. “A rather esteemed scholar seems to be gracing us with his presence.” Earl Grey smirked. “And he’s not alone.” You followed their gaze and your stomach dropped. Shadow Milk Cookie. Walking through the courtyard with two other scholars, deep in conversation, his presence as commanding as ever. His embroidered robes shimmered in the light, his expression composed, thoughtful every bit the revered academic you’d always admired from a distance. And he was heading this way. Panic seized your chest. If he sees me, he’ll know I skipped class. Without thinking, you grabbed Hazelnut Biscotti’s sleeve and yanked him closer. “Hide me.” He choked on his laughter. “Oh, this just keeps getting better.” Chai Latte barely stifled a giggle. “Wait, why are we hiding you? You like him, don’t you?” You gawked at her. “What?! No! That’s not-” “Ohhh, this is priceless,” Hazelnut Biscotti wheezed. “I don’t like him!” you hissed. “I just don’t want him to know I skipped class!” Earl Grey raised an eyebrow. “So, the great Sage of Truth personally tutors you, and instead of actually attending lectures, you’re hiding from him in a bush?” You buried your face in your hands. “I wasn’t planning on hiding in a bush, but if that’s what it takes-” “You’re ridiculous,” Chai Latte giggled, before glancing over at Shadow Milk Cookie’s group. “Okay, okay, he’s almost past us, just don’t move.” You froze, heart hammering. Shadow Milk Cookie’s voice drifted closer, measured, inquisitive, effortlessly drawing his companions into discussion. And then He paused. You stopped breathing. Earl Grey, ever the calm one, muttered, “You definitely look suspicious right now.” Before you could respond, Shadow Milk Cookie resumed walking, his group moving past without so much as a glance in your direction. As soon as they were gone, you collapsed back against the bench with a heavy sigh. Your friends immediately lost it. Hazelnut Biscotti doubled over laughing. “You should’ve seen your face-” Chai Latte wiped away tears. “You so looked like a guilty student caught by a professor” “I was a guilty student caught by a professor!” you groaned. Earl Grey smirked. “You’re just lucky he didn’t see you.” You exhaled, feeling utterly drained. “I really hope so.” Hazelnut Biscotti leaned back with a grin. “Either way, that was hilarious.” You shot him a glare…But at least you weren’t caught. Probably.

Chai Latte Cookie leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. “So… what’s he like?” You blinked, still recovering from your near-exposure. “Huh?” “The Sage of Truth,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “You’ve actually talked to him now, right? So what’s he like?” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie grinned. “Yeah, is he really as mysterious and wise as everyone says?” Earl Grey Cookie sipped his tea, ever composed. “I’d imagine he’s rather intimidating.” You hesitated, shifting uncomfortably under their expectant stares. The truth was, you weren’t entirely sure how to describe him. You had only met him once well, formally, anyway. Sure, you had seen him before, standing at the podium in grand lectures you never attended, passing by in the halls with that effortless air of authority. But actually sitting with him, discussing your academic struggles? That was different. You exhaled. “Honestly… I don’t know yet.” Chai Latte raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? You met him, didn’t you?” “Well, yeah,” you admitted. “But it’s only been one session. And most of that was just him trying to figure out how bad I actually am at this.”

Hazelnut Biscotti snickered. “That bad, huh?” You groaned, covering your face. “Don’t remind me.” Chai Latte Cookie nudged you. “Come on, though. First impressions? What was it like sitting across from the Sage of Truth?” You thought back to yesterday how he had arrived in the office so suddenly, brimming with discoveries before shifting his attention entirely to you. How effortlessly he had unraveled your mistakes, yet without a trace of condescension. How he had challenged you, his golden gaze expectant, patient, assured. “…He’s sharp,” you admitted after a moment. “Like… really sharp. It’s like he already knows the answers but wants to see if you can get there.” Earl Grey Cookie hummed. “That makes sense. A true scholar guides rather than simply provide.” You nodded. “Yeah, but the problem is, I couldn’t get there. No matter how he rephrased it, I just” You sighed. “I couldn’t keep up.” Chai Latte frowned. “Did he get frustrated with you?” You shook your head. “No. If anything, it was worse. He was patient.” Hazelnut Biscotti winced. “Oof.” “Yeah,” you muttered. “It made me feel even dumber.” Earl Grey considered this. “Patience can be more unnerving than reprimand. It forces you to confront your own inadequacies.” You stared at him. “…Yeah. Exactly that.” Chai Latte nudged you again. “But come on, there’s gotta be more to him than just being smart.” You hesitated, thinking back to the way he carried himself so composed, so sure. How his words carried weight without force. How he had looked at you not with disappointment, but expectation, like he truly believed you could improve.

“…He’s confident,” you said slowly. “Not in an arrogant way. Just… assured. Like he doesn’t doubt himself. Ever.” Hazelnut Biscotti whistled. “Must be nice.” Earl Grey nodded. “A scholar of his caliber would have little reason to doubt.” Chai Latte smirked. “And? Is he at least nice to look at?” You nearly choked. “What?!” She grinned. “Come on, you can’t tell me the robes, the hair, the mystique don’t at least add to the appeal.” Hazelnut Biscotti waggled his eyebrows. “All the scholars love him, you know. And not just for his wisdom.” You buried your face in your hands. “I am not discussing this.” Earl Grey shook his head. “This is hardly relevant to his academic prowess.” “Exactly!” You gestured to him. “Thank you!” Chai Latte just laughed. “Okay, okay, we’ll drop it. But you are going back, right?” You exhaled, slumping back. “Yeah. I don’t really have a choice.” Hazelnut Biscotti grinned. “Well, if nothing else, at least we’ll get more firsthand reports on the great and mysterious Sage of Truth.” You groaned. “You all are the worst.” Chai Latte beamed. “And yet, you love us.” You rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, you smiled.

A/N There will be more interactions with the sage dw but I need to build the world it would be super unrealistic if we had no friends LOL And I know there's a canon Earl Grey Cookie but I only realized after I finished sooo it's up to yall to picture him as the canon or come up with your own appearances all the other cookies mentioned are made up <3

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