#les apple white

[arrestedexgirlfriendafterhigh]

If you ever think Im chill remember that Madeleine Hatter has always been at the top of my kin list :3

[romancemedia]

Anime Royalty/Commoner Couples

[codenamesailordarillium]

if i had a nickel for every kpop girl group song/mv making reference to the biblical eve + forbidden apple story coming out during the very same semester i was taking a milton class where we read paradise lost, i’d only have 2 nickels, which isn’t much, but it’s funny it happened twice 😝

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Operation Lonely Lion

summary: the first year's misguided attempt to get the two loneliest people on campus together type of post: fic includes: leona (romantic) ace, deuce, jack, epel, and sebek (platonic) additional info: reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

You haven't smiled in days.

You were back in Ramshackle, snug under piles of blankets, warm by the fire, a mug of your favorite hot drink in hand, and you pouted. You moped. You sighed.

You were downright miserable.

"D'you think it's the cold?" Deuce asks, closing the front door delicately, as if the sound might disturb you.

Ace scoffs. "Don't be dense. They've been acting like this since Azul's overblot,"

"Then that's it?"

Ace sticks his hands in his pockets and the two start their long, snowy walk back to the mirror chamber.

"Three overblots in..." Deuce counts on his fingers. "...Four months takes a toll on you."

"You and I know the Prefect better than anyone, and I don't think that's what's causing... this," Ace says.

"Hey, you two!"

Ace and Deuce tense on instinct, taught and upright, shoulders back and stiff like soldiers. But it's only Jack, not their housewarden, jogging to keep up with them in the cold.

"What're you doing out here so late?" he pants, winded from the snow and the ten shopping bags he's carrying on each arm and in each hand.

Ace rolls his eyes, and Deuce replies. "Visiting the Prefect. They've been weird lately... What're all those?"

"Hm?" Jack glances at the bags on his arms, as if he'd forgotten they were there. "Meat."

"Meat?"

"Yeah. Leona's been grumpy all week, and it's stressing Ruggie out, so he's having me run for groceries,"

"In this weather?" Ace grumbles.

Jack ignores him. "You say the Prefect is weird? Are they sick? I could run back to Sam's for medicine,"

"No, not sick. Just..." Deuce says. "Moping around, lying on the floor, sighing all the time."

Jack's ears prick up. The wind howls, blowing bittercold snow over them. It's late in the day, but the three boys suddenly seem more awake than before.

"...Same thing with Leona. I mean, he's always kind of like that, but it's been worse ever since..."

Deuce's eyes widen. "...Ever since the Prefect moved out of his room and back to Ramshackle,"

The wind settles, and the snow with it. Ace sputters, shaking the white stuff off his shoulders.

"That's it? They miss each other?"

Jack scratches the back of his head. "I couldn't imagine living in Ramshackle all alone. No one for company but Grim and ghosts..."

An eerie silence. Ace scoffs. Deuce watches his boots as they crunch the compact snow underfoot. Jack awkwardly adjusts his bags of beef.

Finally, Ace sighs. "Are we all having the same stupid idea?"

First Objective: The Setup

"I hope you guys don't mind, but I brought someone,"

Jack's silhouette casts a shadow over the wobbly, three-legged table Deuce had dragged from the curb, which Ace is decorating with tea lights from their dorm.

"...Uh," Ace says. "Dude, there's no one there. If this is your weird way of saying you wanna take over decorating, you can just ask. I'm not exactly an expert."

"Eh?" Jack jolts. "Oh! I'm in the way."

Ace rolls his eyes as the tall beastman steps aside, leaving a smaller, less scary boy in his place.

"Howdy!" he chimes.

"This is Epel. He's in my class. He's real good with food."

Epel smiles. "Aw, shucks. I just know my way around a barbeque, 'thas all. And anything to get outta dinner with my dorm. Now, 'les see..."

Ace and Deuce step aside, letting Epel have a look at the mountain of meat behind them.

"...Yup," he nods. "I could whip up a good Harveston-style barbeque with this in no time- oh, I'll haveta get some apples from my dorm for the-"

"On it," Jack barks, tearing out of the building as if it were on fire.

Then it's just the three of them, though Epel is already mumbling about spices and marinades under his breath, holding the thawing meat as if it were made of gold.

Weird. Ace looks at Deuce. "Someone's gonna have to get Grim outta the way. The second he hears dinner, he'll come scratching at the door like he's been starved,"

"And Ruggie," Deuce mumbles. "We'll need something that will distract them both..."

Ace smirks. "Leave that to me,"

Second Objective: The Distraction

Ace whistles a merry tune as he slides a plate of doughnuts under a box propped up with a stick, the words "FREE" scribbled on the cardboard in black ink.

Third Objective: The Secret

The smell of spices and cinnamon makes the dim, dirty botanical gardens almost serene. Epel whistles while he works, slicing apples with a precision that's almost superhuman.

Deuce had awkwardly thrown a few empty sacks of seed together, making a tablecloth, and Ace had dragged a few folding chairs out of school storage (may Crewel have mercy on their souls).

Bunsen burners make for good cooking, and Epel was nearly done with the main course.

"...Now, how're we gonna convince those two to come out here?" Ace asks, dusting the last of the dirt off the chairs. "The Prefect'll be easy, but Leona..."

"HALT! WHO GOES THERE!"

Deuce jumps. Epel nearly drops his knife into the open flame. Ace groans. "Please, Sevens, not him,"

Sebek throws open the doors of the gardens, letting a gust of cold winter wind inside. "Ne'er-do-wells! Just as my knightly senses had suspected! State your purpose at once!"

Ace sighs. "Sebek-"

"I shall have your conspiracy turned over to the Headmage- breaking curfew, stealing supplies, and- c-cooking-? What are you making?"

"This? Apples baked in cinnamon, and-" Epel is hushed by a hissing Ace.

"Don't tell him anything. He's a narc,"

"YOUR INSULTS WON'T SAVE YOU FROM A SWIFT AND JUST PUNISHMENT!"

"S-Sebek, wait!" Deuce says. "This isn't what it looks like. We're just... we're trying to... we..."

Sebek's slitted eyes narrow at the meager setup. The broken table, the planter plates, the Bunsen burner barbeque...

"Hmph. I see," he says. The others tense, even the wind seems to wait and listen, and-

"You've arranged a romantic rendezvous for forbidden lovers! Worry not, your secret is safe with me!"

Ace and Deuce both give each other a look. Jack scratches the back of his head. Even Epel is confused.

"How'dya know all that?"

"Hm," Sebek smirks, crossing his arms. "Any fool with eyes and an intimate knowledge of the Briar Valley court rules from six hundred years ago could deduce as much. I was just reading of this sort of affair between a count and a kitchen maid, in which-"

"Alright, alright! Just promise not to tell," Ace sighs.

"As I said, your secret is safe with me. Now, how may I be of service?"

Fourth Objective: The Invitations

"We're going to need a good excuse," Deuce says, pacing. "The Prefect will be easy. But Leona-"

"-Will question every damn thing until 'ya give him a straight answer," Epel sighs. "He's like that at Spelldrive practice, too."

Sebek finishes lighting the last of the tealights, an unexpectedly delicate task for him, and thinks.

"I will retrieve the Prefect. I elect Jack Howl to retrieve Kingscholar- the disrespectful human- as a member of his dorm,"

Jack scratches the back of his neck, glancing awkwardly at the glass ceiling. "I dunno, it's not like he'd treat me any different than the rest of you, but... eh... wait, I've got it. I know what'll get him here for sure! Let's go,"

Sebek is swifter, bursting into Ramshackle with the ardor of a battle cry.

"PREFECT, YOU MUST FOLLOW ME AT ONCE! YOUR DIREBEAST HAS BECOME STUCK INSIDE A FLASK IN THE BOTANICAL GARDENS!"

You pale. "Oh, no, not again!"

Jack walks to Savanaclaw, knocks before coming into Leona's room, and talks with feigned worry.

"Leona, come quick! Vil tripped on one of the sleeves of his dorm uniform like you always say he's going to, and he fell and-"

Leona shoots up straight in bed. "Where?"

"-In the botanical gardens, and-"

The Housewarden is already putting on his shoes, smiling like he just won something. "Face-first? In the dirt?"

"...Uh, sure, but- aren't you worried-"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, it's a real tragedy," he stands, making sure his phone camera is ready.

"Lead the way."

Fifth Objective: The Date

"We really didn't think this one through, huh?"

Ace grumbles, watching you and Leona walk towards the botanical garden from different directions. Deuce glances at him.

"No music, no entertainment, no warning, no-"

"Well, we got plenty 'a food, so quit your whining and help me plate these!" Epel shouts.

Ace and Deuce wince. "Man, he can be scary when he wants to,"

The glass doors of the gardens swing open, and Leona and you nearly walk right into each other. You stumble, almost into the dirt, but Leona catches you by the arm.

"Ah- Leona?"

"Herbivore?"

"Sssuuurpriiiise...." Ace says, forcing a weak smile.

You and Leona both look at him, then at the ugly table, then at Epel, still crouched over the burner on the floor.

And then...

"Heh. Haha, hahahaha!"

You both burst into laughter, losing your balance and tumbling into the grass and dirt. Ace and Deuce stand over you, waiting for you to breathe again.

"...It's not that funny," Ace mutters.

Leona stands first, and then pulls you to your feet like a proper gentleman. He dusts the dirt off his pants.

"You froshes are really something else. This is all for us?"

Deuce nods. "We thought-" but Ace slaps a hand over his mouth and smiles. "Just... go with it?"

...And you do.

For all of two hours preparation, the date is surprisingly fancy... in... its own way. The food is good, the seating is comfortable, and Sebek even recites his favorite poetry in place of music.

At least you're smiling again. That counts as a success for the first years.

And at the end of it, even Leona looks pleased.

"You kids don't know when to give up, I'll give you that," he grins. "But I'm still gonna kill all of you for this tomorrow."

They laugh awkwardly.

The End

After handing your unfinished food to the drooling first-years, you clear your throat.

"So, Grim's not... really stuck in a flask, is he? That was a lie to get me here?"

They shake their heads, and you sigh. "Can never be too sure... where is he, anyway?"

"Probably in a box outside," Ace says without thinking, and Epel smacks him upside the head.

"What?"

Deuce sighs. "See... the thing is, Ace had this thought..."

Your eyes widen as he explains, and you stand, going straight for the door. Leona and the first years follow.

"Come on!" Leona yells after you. "There's no way anyone would actually fall for such a stupid-"

You pull the aforementioned box off the ground, and Ruggie and Grim are curled up beneath it, both covered in icing, jam, and sugar, snoozing away.

You all sigh, and Leona smirks.

"Seems like someone had an even better time than us,"

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls

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

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

Part Four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bonjour, comment va tout le monde ?”

The class responded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mama, everything okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

Terry chuckled, settling into his drivers seat.

“Wish I could help.”

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

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

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

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

“Will do, baby.”

——

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

Buzz Buzz

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

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

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

Aaliyah: 😍😍😍

Terry: I miss you

She found herself blushing into her hand.

Aaliyah: I miss you too.

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

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

Fuck it! Stop holding off! Get yours…

Aaliyah: Sure 😌

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

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Aaliyah blushed hard.

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

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

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

“You smiling now, ain’t you?”

“Maybe,” Aaliyah looked up at her ceiling.

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

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

“Okay, I am…”

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

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

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

“It better be worth my while.”

Terry chuckled, “Or what?”

“It’s gonna be a problem.”

“Aaliyah…”

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

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

“Do what I want and maybe I won’t.”

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

“How will you do that exactly?”

“You want me to show you?”

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

“Aaliyah?”

“Show me when?”

“Tonight.”

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

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

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

“Where you feelin’ heavy, Terry?”

He chuckled slightly and then a slight pause followed.

“…This dick you was sittin’ on.”

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

“Mmm, It was heavy…”

“It is right now…right…now…”

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

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

“Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

“I like to watch it go in and out…”

Terry grunted.

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

“I bet it’s a pretty dick…”

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

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

“That dick in your hand, Terry?”

“Mhm…that tasty pussy out?”

“Yessss…I’m rubbing her right now.”

“How you play wit’ that pussy, baby?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m eating it ‘til you cry, baby…”

“Unh…”

“Do that again…make that sound again…”

“…Unh….”

His dick throbbed in his grip.

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

“Yes, daddy…”

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

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

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

“Mm, fuck…”

Mewling and whimpering.

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

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

“Uhhhhnnn—”

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

“Cum for me, daddy!”

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

“Goddamn…”

“I wish I was there to lick it up…”

His dick twitched.

“I bet you don’t miss a drop.”

“I just know it taste good…”

“You think that throat ready for me?”

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

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

“Fuuuck.”

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

“Professor…”

The sound of liquid hitting a surface titillated his ears.

Fuck. She was squirting.

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

She sounded mesmerized. Terry loved that.

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

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

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

“It’ll be all yours tomorrow.”

Terry pouted slightly.

“I’m gonna go…I need another shower.”

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

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

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

“Nite, handsome. Think of me.”

“I plan on it.”

——

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

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

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

Last night flooded her mind again.

And she knew the same had happened to him.

Sexual tension so thick between them.

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

Distraction number two.

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

“Excuse me…”

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

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

Aaliyah had a ton of questions.

Why is your dick so big?

What position do you want me in first?

Can I ride your face?

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

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

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

Distraction number three.

“I’m confused on this question here…”

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

Distraction number four.

“What constitutes the nature of right and wrong?”

He glanced at her.

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

“Yes, Sir.”

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

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

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

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

His door shut with a muffled click.

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

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

“Terry…”

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

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

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

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

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

Terry’s eyes scanned her body slowly.

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

He tilted his head at her with a knowing look.

“It’s so hot out…”

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

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

Aaliyah simply giggled.

“C’mere…”

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

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

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

“You want something to suck on?”

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

“Show me that tongue…there you go…”

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

“Can’t wait to feel this on my dick…”

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

“Pretty mouth…such a pretty mouth…”

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

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

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

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

His deep voice. Aaliyah whimpered.

“Closed mouths don’t get fed, baby…”

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

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

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

“Mhm…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open your mouth…”

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

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

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

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

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

Terry had to remove his glasses.

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

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

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

“You okay there, Terry?” Aaliyah teased.

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

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

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

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

Hard.

——

A tearing sound.

Aaliyah gasped.

He’d torn her panties to shreds.

Was he going to fuck her against the desk?

A knock came to the door.

Aaliyah tensed up.

Terry placed a finger to his mouth to shush her.

“Yes?” Terry replied to the knocking.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good…because I’m starving…”

Terry looked into Aaliyah’s eyes with intensity.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Terry…Terry…Terry…”

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

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

“HUH—”

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

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

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

“You just keep creaming on my tongue…”

“Why you taste so fuckin’ good, huh?”

“Keep those pretty eyes on me…”

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

“Cum in my mouth, now…”

Thighs quivering, body shaking…

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

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

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

“Kiss me…”

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

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

“What time are you picking me up tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine. I’ll reschedule.”

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look amazing.”

Aaliyah smiled into her glass of wine.

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

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

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

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

Aaliyah blinked at Terry with slight shock.

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

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

She took a sip of her wine.

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

“…from the bachelor party?”

“Yes…”

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

Aaliyah was too stunned by his remark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You will…I plan to ride your face.”

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

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

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

“Everywhere, Aaliyah.”

“Good thing I’m on birth control.”

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

“You’re funny…”

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

“You sound so cute when you curse.”

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

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

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

Good idea.

Aaliyah slipped away and to the bathroom.

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, daddy…”

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

“Pop that wet puss…”

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

“Big ass butt…”

His rough tone stunned her.

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

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

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

Aaliyah made her ass clap again.

“I want you right now…”

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

“Ooo, Terry…”

He started stoking his dick between her cheeks.

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

“Take what you need…use me…”

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

“I can…can you handle this pussy?”

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

Aaliyah’s knees buckled.

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

“If I don’t?”

Terry shut her up with his thumb on her clit.

“I’ll cuff you.”

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

“Mm–mm, eyes on me.”

She gagged.

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

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

Gawk gawk gawk gawk…

So rigid and unyielding.

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

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

“See that, pretty baby?”

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

“Too fine…”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’M FINNA BUST—”

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

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

“TERRRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Terry, it’s big…”

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

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

——

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

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

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

“Look, baby…”

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

“I know, I know…”

Terry quickened his pace. Aaliyah could feel everything.

“Oh my god…” she whispered.

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

Aaliyah stares into his eyes while clinging onto him.

“Aaliyah…I’m going faster…you ready?”

Terry started pounding and Aaliyah cried out.

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

“Uhm!!!! SHIT!”

She couldn’t believe how wet she was.

She couldn’t believe she was going to squ—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Big ass dick!”

“This big dick got you creamy, baby…”

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

"Look at me while I fucking use you."

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

Terry has her trapped with an iron hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The clapping echoed.

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

Aaliyah gasped when he slipped out.

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

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

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

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

“Aaliyah…”

She looked up at him. Terry met her gaze.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you tired yet?” Aaliyah questioned.

She sat up to stare down at him.

“I want you to fuck me more…”

“How you want it this time?”

Aaliyah trailed her hand down to grip him.

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

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

“We didn’t use a condom…”

Aaliyah realized that.

“If I cum in you…” Terry warned.

“Then paint me….”

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

“Yes…yesssss…yeeeesssssssahhhh…”

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

“Damn, Aaliyah…shit so…fuckin’…good…”

He punctuated his thrusts with his words.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ughhh–uhhhh–mmmmm—”

Faster.

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

“Aaliyah!”

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

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

“Nasty girl…”

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

He couldn’t wait to give her more dick.

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

[kabukiaku]

she's resplendent...so confident...le seine, le seine, seine! 🤍✨

Lucille OOAK doll is finally complete! she was made using an Ever After High Apple White doll---which served as a perfect base for her, I am stunned tbh. I was inspired after seeing her official doll. Knowing she wouldn't be easy to obtain, I said: fuck it. I'm making her myself.

The only thing I didn't get to make was her hair pin in the back. Eventually I'll add something back there but, I'm happy enough in the overall end result.

[psychicreadsgirl]

Pick a Novel: Keywords/prominent themes in your life

Pick the novel that draws your attention the most. If you can't decide between two, then look at the 2 readings. This is a general reading, so not everything will apply. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't behind!

#1

Keywords: love, lust, passion, fun, temperament, cafe, sweet, bicycle, pen, books, music, loyalty, winter, sofa, furniture, thoughts, light, intuition, soulmate, art, obsidian, cake, carbonated water, skincare, socks, cooking

Celebrities/Public Figures: Audrey Hepburn, Min Yoongi, IU, Claude Monet, Angela Merkel, Andrew Carnegie, John Johnson, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Page, Howard Schultz, Sam Walton, Amancio Ortega, Queen Elizabeth I, Jane Austen, Jennie Kim

Countries: Italy, Canada, South Africa, Thailand, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Greece, Madagascar, Qatar, Sweden, Zambia, Taiwan, Solomon Islands

Numbers: 11, 1, 5, 9, 80, 888, 6

Brands: Hermes, Tiffany, Apple, Instagram, Taobao, Lamborghini, Deloitte, Microsoft, Chopard, Givenchy, Patek Phillipe, Chloe, Alaia, Kraft,

Kpop songs: Young Forever by BTS, Shine by PENTAGON, Me Gustas Tu by GFRIEND, Run to You by DJ DOC, Love Lee by AKMU, Deja vu by TXT, Back Down by P1Harmony, Love shot by EXO

#2

Keywords: economy, job loss, new opportunities, play, drama, anger, frustration, lost, compass, computers, battery, feet, head, brain, summer, pearl, avocado, junk food, fried chicken, challenge, frugal

Celebrities/Public Figures: Grace Kelly, Billie Eilish, Keanu Reeves, Rosé, Jung Hoseok, Salma Hayek, Pablo Picasso, Princess Diana, Thomas Edison, Sergey Brin, Mary I, William Shakespeare, Lee Nayeon

Countries: New Zealand, USA, Maldives, Indonesia, United Kingdom, Venezuela, Lithuania, Nepal, Portugal, Poland, Lebanon, Mali, Netherlands

Numbers: 4, 99, 101, 33, 13, 14, 0

Brands: Masion Margiela, Amazon, facebook, Shein, PWC, Missoni, Moschino Couture, Toyota, citi bank, Chaumet, Polene, Pizza Hut,

Kpop songs: Love Dive by IVE, Shangri-la by VIXX, Sweety by Clazziquai, I NEED U by BTS, The Chaser by Infinite, Magnetic by ILLIT, My House by 2PM, ICY by ITZY

#3

Keywords: tales, gossip, lies, funny, movies, theatre, cell phone, cool, kpop, magenta, ancient, history, claws, cats, tiger, fall, jealousy, games, aquamarine, lemons, makeup, pencil, groceries

Celebrities/Public Figures: Beyonce, Lady Gaga, Morgan Freeman, Kim Seokjin, Jang Wonyoung, Matt Damon, Napoleon Bonaparte, Shinzo Abe, Steve Jobs, Voltaire, Kim Jisoo,

Countries: Ethiopia, France, Russia, Ireland, Argentina, Afghanistan, Libya, Rwanda, Nigeria, Pakistan, Morocco, Malta, Kazakhstan, Kenya, Iraq,

Numbers: 2, 7, 69, 25, 55, 79, 1182

Brands: Saint Laurent, miumiu, Starbucks, Mercedez-Benz, Nestle, Oracle, Tod's, Bulgari, Rolex, KFC, SUBWAY, Carrefour, Kellog's

Kpop songs: Supernova by aespa, Maestro by seventeen, Not by the moon by GOT7, Alone by Sistar, Hip by MAMAMOO, Good Day by IU, Bite Me by ENHYPEN, Work by ATEEZ, The Feels by TWICE

#4

Keywords: foreign, spicy, peppery, rice, no, objection, resistance, control, storms, thunderstorms, shower, tension, crush, pop, paper, mango, legs, fragrance, emerald, clothing rack, tomatoes, defeat,

Celebrities/Public Figures: Judy Garland, Margot Robbie, G-Dragon, Jeon Jungkook, Pharrell Williams, Emmanuel Macron, Bill Clinton, King Charles, Warren Buffet, Cleopatra, Kim Mingyu

Countries: South Korea, Philippines, Scotland, Spain, Albania, Guatemala, Malaysia, Iran, Romania, Honduras, Georgia, Croatia, Belgium, Czech Republic, Gambia, Guinea

Numbers: 31, 75, 412, 43, 486, 640

Brands: Chanel, Prada, Bentley, Gucci, Samsung, Disney, BMW, Hyundai, cisco, Van Cleefs & Arpels, Dior, Loro Piana, Shake Shack

Kpop songs: Gee by SNSD, If you by BIGBANG, Antifragile by LE SSERAFIM, Up and Down by EXID, OMG by NewJeans, Lion by (G)I-DLE, Hello by TREASURE,

#5

Keywords: death, mystery, mirror, reflection, shadow, black, grey, white, funeral, video, sprint, pool, gym, streets, metro, subway, chocolate, broken, knees, moon, ruby, surgery, teeth, race

Celebrities/Public Figures: Marilyn Monroe, Barack Obama, Kate Winslet, Kim Taehyung, Aamir Khan, Marie Antoinette, Elon Musk, Robert F Kennedy, Jeff Bezos, Richard Branson, Edward VIII, Charles Dickens, Abraham Lincoln, Park Bogum,

Countries: North Korea, China, Vietnam, Brazil, Bangladesh, Cambodia, Germany, India, Israel, Laos, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Congo, Cuba, Egypt, Mongolia

Numbers: 3, 97, 17, 19, 52, 98

Brands: Ralph Lauren, Celine, Ferrari, Huawei, Uber, intel, UPS, Calvin Klein, Piaget, Guerlain, Berluti, Pepsi, Cadbury

Kpop songs: Shut down by Blackpink, Seven by Jeon Jungkook, God's Menu by Stray Kids, Love Love Love by Epik High, Very Nice by SEVENTEEN, Birthday by Jeon Somi, Psycho by Red Velvet,

#6

Keywords: travel, toxic, break away, departure, memory, dreams, truth, unveil, diary, journal, coffee, jacket, shoes, hands, social media, news, competition, autumn, diamonds, electricity, TV, cheat, fashion

Celebrities/Public Figures: Jane Birkin, Kim Jiwon, Gigi Hadid, Charlize Theron, Park Jimin, Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, Maximilien Robespierre, Bill Gates, Queen Elizabeth II, Vladimir Putin, Henry Ford, James Joyce, Lalisa Manobal

Countries: Japan, Australia, Mexico, Iceland, Finland, Eritrea, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Cyprus, Bolivia, Botswana, Bahamas,

Numbers: 8, 646, 152, 37, 49, 22

Brands: Louis Vuitton, Lexus, Tesla, Fendi, Walmart, Nike, Siemens, Google, Cartier, Burberry, Ferragamo, Burger King, Unilever

Kpop songs: ROCKSTAR by LISA, Cherry bomb by NCT 127, Move by Taemin, Dramarama by MONSTA X, Love Scenario by iKON, Get a Guitar by RIIZE, Replay by SHINee, Candy Sugar Pop by ASTRO, Mr. Simple by Super Junior

[eeriepromis]

POV: You're Hugging Your Favorite LI - Here's What He Smells Like

Have you ever wondered what it'd be like to hug your favorite Love Interest from LaDs and catch a hint of their unique scent? (No shame, we've all thought about it.) Well, I couldn't resist imagining exactly how Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, and Caleb might smell in real life. I matched each LI with a perfume that captures their personality, vibe, and overall aura - and let's just say, Caleb’s scent definitely involves apples.

But these are just my takes! I'd love to hear your thoughts too - did I nail their vibes, or do you picture them differently? Drop your own perfume ideas or scent headcanons in the comments! [Original Post on Reddit]

Xavier

Character & Scent Profile:

Gentle, soft-spoken, dreamy, and protective.

Hints of clean, comforting aromas, fresh linen, soft musk, and subtle floral notes that evoke nostalgia.

Light, airy, slightly sweet, and sophisticated.

By Commenters:- Vanilla- Ambroxan based enhancer, you’ll only smell his perfume if you go in and nuzzle him during a nap- Lavender & bergamot

Fitting Perfumes:

Maison Francis Kurkdjian – Aqua Universalis: Clean, subtle, airy; evokes the comforting feeling of freshly washed linens and gentle sunshine.

Byredo – Blanche: Pure, delicate, and soothing, with white rose, sandalwood, and a powdery finish - a perfect reflection of Xavier's softness and chivalry.

By Commenters: - Juliette’s Not - Replica Lazy Sunday Morning - Lake and Skye 11•11 - Clean Reserve Skin - Missing Person by Phlur - since his cards are unexpectedly very sensual, so I would like to highlight this cozy, yet sensual aspect of his personality - Taunt by Dedcool - Kinda musky and very evocative of being cozy in bed

Zayne

Character & Scent Profile:

Professional, composed, yet quietly affectionate. Reserved but with hidden warmth beneath his cold exterior.

Crisp, icy freshness mixed with warm undertones - like fresh snow, juniper berries, cedarwood, and subtle vanilla or amber notes.

By Commenters: - cinnamon- So ideal. So professional. I think he would wear something nondescript.- Subtle scent of soap or clean laundry. The subtlest musk, maybe. An Earl Gray tea scent also sounds appropriate.- Hand sanitizer or antiseptic. Bleach. With maybe a hint of fabric softener. He's a doctor, he's gonna smell like cleanliness.

Fitting Perfumes:

Creed – Silver Mountain Water: Clean, crisp, and icy with notes of bergamot, green tea, and blackcurrant; evokes mountain air and quiet strength.

Dior – Sauvage: Elegant, composed, and masculine, with notes of bergamot, vanilla, and cedar. Matches Zayne’s calm authority with a hint of hidden warmth.

By Commenters: - Diptyque’s Orphéon - It’s a comforting scent but can be most used during autumn or winters, since it’s has that level of spice and gourmand notes to it. It’s musky, sweet and it’s smexy, just like Zayne. - Quasar by Jesus del Pozo - Lait De Chocolat would suit him since it has chocolate notes and jasmine too. - Lush's Sticky Dates is as yummy as Zayne is. - Diptyque Do Son or Eau Minthe or Le Labo Thé Noir - Gentle Fluidity Silver or Gris Dior - Lush’s Flying Fox - honey and jasmine - Not a Perfume by Juliette Has a Gun - since he's a health professional, and that scent is the most subtle, inoffensive fragrance I've smelled. - Penguin by Zoologist - this does not have any of the notes that are deemed canon, but reading some of his lore makes me think this could work - Monday by Arielle Shoshana - Earl Gray tea scent. There is also a milk/caramel note, which his sweet tooth may appreciate.

Canon Scent (thanks to PootyBubTheDestroyer):

MC describes Zayne to smell like jasmine, lavender, and a unique Zayne scent in Everlasting Wish!

Rafayel

Character & Scent Profile:

Playful, mischievous, and artistic, with an underlying seductive, fiery intensity.

Sea salt, ocean air, citrusy brightness combined with exotic spices, smoked woods, and warm amber.

By Commenters:- beautiful, regal/dignified, and playful- sea salt- really in touch with nature and has such a deep respect for it & likes to bathe a lot- like soil after rain

Fitting Perfumes:

Jo Malone – Wood Sage & Sea Salt: Captures the fresh, salty breeze, artistic inspiration, and free spirit of the sea. Playful, invigorating, and effortlessly charming.

Maison Margiela Replica – By the Fireplace: Warm, spicy, smoky, comforting, and slightly sweet. Reflects Rafayel’s fiery passion, artistic nature, and depth beneath his teasing demeanor

By Commenters: - Acqua di Gio - It’s so bright and nautical that it fits his personality so well. The patchouli also harkens to the spice’s use in spiritual traditions, which is w nod towards his Sea God Memories. - CK’s Summer Collection that has that yummy coconut scent just for a fun tropical zing. - TF Soleil Blanc or D&G Light Blue Intense - Dior Bois d’Argent or Replica Sailing Day or Beach Walk - Gentle Fluidity Silver by MFK

Sylus

Character & Scent Profile:

Dark, enigmatic, elegant, charismatic, and slightly dangerous.

Mysterious, smoky oud, dark leather, tobacco, rare spices, deep patchouli, amber, and rich woods.

By Commenters:- I have always imagined Sylus smelling enigmatic and as rich as the night. Maybe some faint burnt petals, too, since his soul smells like flowers.- gunpowder, wine and elegance- mixture of mahogany and sandalwood

Fitting Perfumes:

Tom Ford – Oud Wood: Rich, sophisticated, and deeply charismatic, blending oud, rosewood, sandalwood, and vetiver; a scent perfectly embodying Sylus’s mysterious elegance.

Kilian – Black Phantom: Darkly alluring with rum, coffee, cacao, and dark woods, representing Sylus’s complexity, dark charm, and charismatic dominance.

By Commenters: - Tom Ford, Ombré Leather - it’s a blend of sweet and bitter/masculine. - Memento Mori by Seance or Frustration by Etat libre d'orange, those musky, woody rosey scents - Roja Aoud or MFK Grand Soir or Replica Jazz Club - Dior, Fahrenheit - Tobacco Vanille by Tom Ford - something warm/sweet, spicy, and sensual - Bleu Lazuli by Armani Privé - spicy/sweet/warm scent with tobacco/leather notes - Chanel's Egoiste - Hypnotizing Fire by The Harmonist - smells like roses and matches

Canon Scent (thanks to Hidden--_Sanctuary):

In Ordinary Traces MC says Sylus smells like red wine and fireworks.

Caleb

Character & Scent Profile:

Protective yet obsessive, playful yet dominant, deeply layered emotionally, with a hint of forbidden allure.

Warm apples, cinnamon, tonka bean, vanilla, dark honey, leather, and subtle incense.

By Commenters:- Airplane cabin, oil & metal.

Fitting Perfumes:

Parfums de Marly – Layton: Warm, inviting, and sensual with apple, vanilla, cardamom, and woods, perfectly embodying Caleb's warmth, temptation, and dominant presence.

Yves Saint Laurent – La Nuit de l'Homme: Seductive, charismatic, spicy with cardamom, cedar, and tonka bean. Reflects Caleb’s charismatic, teasing, yet obsessive nature beneath his playful surface.

By Commenters: - Creed Aventus - With hints of apples, birch and musk, this fragrance just screams Caleb to me. Like I can totally imagine him spritzing this in before heading for work, and as the day wears on, it gets mellowed down to mix with metallic scent of some blood and smoke. - Diptyque Tam Dao - Not my recommendation but saw another Redditor stating this would be his go-to. Makes sense to me because the scent is so comforting. This is something he’d wear maybe during the evening, when he’s back home. - Noe’s Citrus Poetry or Armaf’s El Cielo could fit him well. Plus they have green apples in it, which reminds me of his cute apple hugging emoji. (Since he’s such a big fan of sour things. Something to balance the sweetness of apples, vanilla and the richness of wood and spices) - D&G Light Blue - YSL Y or Frederick Malle Promise - Axe body spray - Angel's Share by Kilian - The smell of cinnamon rolls is so delicious and comforting and evocative of simple, childhood delights, but you also get the undercurrent of cognac, which is so mature, addicting, and masculine, and also the perfume smells a bit sharp/refreshing. - Apple Brandy on the Rocks by Kilian - would be a more obvious choice, but I think Angel's Share is just a better, more tempting fragrance overall and fitting the apple representing temptation concept more. - PDM Greenley - Green scents suit him very much and it's also got an apple note - how I imagined he smelled like in Endless Summer. - Old Spice - would probably wear something like it because of how much a dork he is.

_________

Small Bonus: Lost Cherry by Tom Ford for MC?

According to Sylus MC smells like cherry wine. (by _RiverSong) According to Xavier MC smells like strawberries/cherries. (by cooliecoolie)

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

Rook's nicknames and some small explanations

Ramshackle

Yuu/Player - Trickster. I made a whole post on how us being called Trickster due to our connection with Mickey.

Grim - JP: Monsieur Kemakujara (Thick Fur)/ EN: Monsieur Peluche (Plush). Grim's nickname derives from the fact he is furry and soft.

Heartslabyul

Riddle - Roi des Roses. Riddle's nickname means King of Roses. All Dorm Leaders/Housewardens seem to have "Roi" which is French for King as part of their nickname.

Trey - JP: Bara no chevalier/ EN: Chevalier des Roses. Both forms translate to "Knight of Roses". Given Trey's whole thing in Book 1 is to try and protect not just the Heartslabyul students, but also Riddle himself, makes sense why he's the Knight of Roses.

Cater - Monsieur Magicam. This is pretty self explanatory, but Cater's nickname comes from his consistent posting to Magicam.

Ace - Monsieur Heart. Ace's card suit in Heartslabyul is a Heart, so Mr. Heart is pretty self explanatory.

Deuce - Monsieur Spade. Like with Ace, Deuce's nickname comes from his card suit in Heartslabyul.

Savanaclaw

Leona - Roi des Lions. Leona's nickname means King of Lions.

Ruggle - JP: Monsieur Tanpopo (Dandelion)/EN: Monsieur Dent-de-Lion. We get an explanation from Rook about this in Book 5. Ruggie's food money had run low as students are required to provide their own monthly food budget, so he was looking for dandelions in the sports field to eat so he wouldn't go hungry. Dent-de-Lion is the French word where we get the word Dandelion and it also means Tooth of Lion.

Jack - JP: Monsieur Tough Guy/EN: Monsieur Fier-a-bras (Braggart). This is likely tied to the tough guy facade Jack often puts up trying to be a lone wolf.

Octavinelle

Azul - Roi du Fort/Roi de l'Effort. This means King of Effort.

Jade - JP: Monsieur Keikaku-han/EN: Monsieur Premedite. Keikaku-han is a premeditated crime and Premedite means Premeditated.

Floyd - JP: Monsieur Yukai-han/EN: Monsieur Spontane. Yukai-han is a crime committed to enjoy the chaos/commotion that comes after, while Spontane means Spontaneous.

Scarabia

Kalim - Roi Dore. Kalim's nickname is supposed to be Golden King or King of Gold, likely the latter.

Jamil - JP: Monsieur Multi/EN: Monsieur Pyramide. Jamil's JP nickname likely refers to his versatility of tasks he fulfills for Kalim, while his EN nickname is more driven by the fact Pyramids are supposed to guard the kings that are entombed inside.

Pomefiore

Vil - Roi du Poison. This means King of Poison.

Epel - JP: Monsieur Hime-Ringo (Crab Apple)/EN: Monsieur Pommette. Hime Ringo is a pun because it is the word for Crab Apple (referring to Epel's temper) but it also means Princess Apple (referring to Epel's effeminate looks). Pommette is like the apple of the cheek.

Himself - Le Chasseur d'Amour. This means Hunter of Love.

Ignihyde

Idia - JP: Roi de ta Chambre/EN: Roi de sa Chambre. This is King of One's Own Room/King of His Own Room. It's tied to how Idia is a recluse who rare leaves his own room.

Ortho - (Pre Book 6) JP: Monsieur Oningyou (Doll)/EN: Monsieur Marionette. (Post Book 6) Monsieur Wonder. Ortho's first nickname is due to the fact he's a robot which could be considered an advanced form of doll or puppet, but when he gets his own free will, Rook changes his name to Monsieur Wonder due to the miracle of Ortho becoming "human" in a sense.

Diasomnia

Malleus - Roi des Dragons. This means King of Dragons.

Lilia - JP: Monsieur Koukishin (Curiousity)/EN: Monsieur Curiosite. Both mean Mr. Curiousity, which given Lilia isn't very forthcoming about himself, makes sense.

Silver - JP: Monsieur Onebou (Sleepyhead)/EN: Monsieur Endormi. These refer to the fact that Silver can't stay awake.

Sebek - Monsieur Crocodile. Sebek's fae heritage from his mom is a crocodile fae. This is pretty confirmed given Baul/Baur moved from Sunset Savannah to Briar Land which would later become Briar Valley.

Extra

Neige - Roi de Neiges. This means King of Snow/King of White Snow.

[lalathemediterraneanmermaid]

Love & Deepspace Boys and how do they smell like

Hi, hello, how are you, my beloveds? Lately, I’ve been obsessed with the game 'Love and Deepspace.' I haven’t started playing yet (my phone is completely out of storage, tragic, I know), but hear me out: THE CHARACTERS. OMG, THE CHARACTERS. Anyway, today I bring you my thoughts on what I think each LaDs boy smells like. Enjoy!!!

Caleb

I know, I know, Caleb is a new character who was an npc in the beginning and we know little about him. But I’ve seen his release trailer and I think we can work with that. He is depicted as friendly, approachable, energetic, grounded and fresh, but in his release trailer we can see a darker side of him (he is now literally an android, I mean, he has a robotic arm). While my poor boy was an npc, he seemed naturally warm and friendly, with a light, refreshing personality and an approachable and energetic vibe. It appears apples are a symbol of him, and apples are naturally fresh and sweet. We can also see a more calm and peaceful side of him while he interacts with MC. But this sense of calmness, airiness and freshness, ends up a bit left aside with his release trailer, that gives a more obscure and mysterious aura with a lot of angst. He is giving me “good boy gone bad” vibes if you know what I mean… He seems to be seeking revenge (just my opinion). And it’s not just the vibes, he seems hella toxic and possessive.

That being said, his scent matches that vibe of “good boy with a dark secret”. Caleb's scent would be fresh and vibrant at first, reminiscent of his warm, approachable beginnings, but it will fade pretty quickly, settling into something smoky, leathery, and grounding. This duality captures his essence as someone torn between his apparent goodness and the weight of his transformation, or may I say his true self? I would also say he smells pretty clean, like aftershave or something similar, why? I don’t really know, it’s just a vibe.

Notes: Green apple, bergamot, lavender, smoky vetiver and dark amber.

Perfumes:

Yves Saint Laurent - Y

Creed - Spice & Wood

Le Labo - Bergamote 22

Dior - Sauvage (this one for the toxic part lol)

Tom Ford - Oud Wood

Rafayel

Okay, we DO KNOW Rafayel, he is our favourite diva drama queen. Now let’s get serious. Rafayel is a passionate, fiery (lol), playful, artistic and a teeny-weeny bit mischievous fine pisces man. Lemme explain, Rafayel's vibe is that of a passionate, creative soul with an intense drive to express himself through art. To others he's quite aloof, cold even, stopping at nothing to achieve his goals, even if his actions may seem morally ambiguous. But with those who really know him, he has a fiery and dynamic personality, much like his artwork, which leaves a profound impact on those who view it. Though with MC, he tends to act pretty carefree, petulant and childish, Rafayel is a tease and really likes to act clingy around her, but just around HER. Also, he is pretty, like beautiful, ETHEREAL (literally, he is a merman) and he appreciates fine art and beauty. His art is mood-influenced, the colors he uses depend on his feelings. Also, there’s a mix of sensuality and intensity in his character. 

With all that information about our fish boy Rafayel we can tell that he, more or less, smells like paints (obviously), but he also smells really clean, fresh and a bit sweet, but overall light, fresh and airy, beautiful. On top of all of that, he is nostalgic of the ocean, so there’s clearly something aquatic about his scent.

Notes: Sea salt, yuzu, bergamot, white jasmine, ambergris, cherry, dry woods and paint accords.

Perfumes: 

Jo Malone - Wood Sage & Sea Salt

Loewe - Agua Él

Giorgio Armani - Acqua di Gio Profondo

Issey Miyake -  L'Eau d'Issey Pour Homme

Calvin Klein - Eternity Air for Men

Xavier

Xavier, our sleepy boy. Only that says a lot about him. He is calm, caring, playful, overprotective and a bit obsessive towards MC. Xavier presents a serene, almost ethereal vibe, with a calm demeanor and a caring nature. He has a pure and angelic aura, but his occasional obsessive tendencies add complexity to his character. He won't even hesitate to eliminate anyone who threatens him or MC. He is quite mysterious though, with not so many facial expressions, his unknown age, that hidden need to have MC for his own… Which is pretty amusing to know given the fact that he has no problem falling asleep anywhere, anytime. Xavier has a boyish, endearing and otherworldly charm due to his awkward speech, mannerisms and lack of awareness of social norms. And lastly, I will say he has a kind of nurturing side, but he also demands you to nurture him lol.

With that being said, what does Xavier smell like? I can sense some fresh and clean notes along with other calming ones. I also can picture him spraying onto his bedsheets baby cologne, more specifically “Petits Et Mamans” by Bvlgari.  I don’t really think we can “smell” that more obscure side of him, so it’s safe to say he smells light, fresh and clean.

Notes: White tea, baby powder, lavender, cotton blossom, musk and water lily.

Perfumes: 

Bvlgari - Eau Parfumée au Thé Blanc

Clean Reserve - Skin

Maison Margiela Replica - Lazy Sunday Morning

Jo Malone - White Jasmine & Mint

Byredo - Blanche

Sylus

Sylus, my man, my beloved, the love of my life. Okay, now for real, Sylus gives off a strong, commanding aura, with an air of danger and mystery along with a strategic mind and cold, calculated nature. To make it easier to understand, he is giving major red flag vibes. He is the leader of Onychinus, so he definitely has leadership qualities that go well with his very defined ruthless attitude. He is sassy duh, and the definition of a tease. Sylus is an arrogant and confident man and rarely perceives anyone as a real threat. Even in dangerous situations, he remains calm and smug. His cruelty knows no bounds when it comes to achieving his goals, as he's willing to threaten or even kill to get what he wants. At the same time, there’s a hint of warmth in his character, he is a softy at heart, he loves his fluffy onesie. So he is not really that much of a red flag, he really cares for MC and it shows in his eyes on quite a lot of occasions. His vibe can be best described as dominant, powerful, mysterious, dark and a bit of a tease, yet deeply caring for MC..

Knowing both his cold and dangerous side and his warm and caring one, and looking at his “looks like could kill you, would kill you”, “bad boy”, “touch her and you die” vibe. His scent would likely be dark and intense, with a spicy, animalistic base, balanced by warm and seductive notes that reflect his caring side.

Notes: Leather, black pepper, tobacco, liqueur, amber and tonka bean.

Perfumes:

Tom Ford - Ombre Leather

Givenchy - Gentleman

Penhaligon's - The Dandy

Kilian Paris - Old Fashioned

Tom Ford - Tobacco Vanille

Zayne

Oh Zayne, my other man. At this point I don’t even care for my digital footprint anymore so let’s be honest, Zayne and Sylus could sandwich me in between them and I wouldn’t complain lol. Okay, back to our Zaddy Dr. Zayne, he is very professional and focused, as the perfect doctor he is. He is stoic and grounded, again, he is a doctor. My pookie appears to be cold at the beginning, but he is really caring, loving and a huge softie, and, of course, he is an indulgent with a sweet tooth lol. Let’s summarize, Zayne has a very serious and disciplined vibe, especially in his role as a doctor. He’s grounded, practical, and very level-headed. However, there’s a contrast in his character as well, he indulges in sweets and has a soft spot for certain comforts. His complexity lies in balancing his demanding profession with moments of personal relaxation. He is the complete opposite of Xavier, Zayne suffers a lot from bad nightmares and insomnia, my poor boy needs to sleep really bad. He gives off major 'girl dad' and husband material vibes, I mean, he literally focused his doctor career on researching congenital heart abnormalities in neonates and he learned how to braid hair by taking care of kids in Akso Hospital. He also strikes me as the loyal type, and if you don’t agree just look at his safe black outfit with sunglasses, he loves that outfit more than he loves MC I swear, and we love a consistent man. Outside the main story, Zayne displays a more affectionate personality with MC. He is also openly physically affectionate, often boldly holding or even kissing the main character. Btw, I love this fact that I’ve found on the internet: “Zayne's alcohol limit: One piece of liqueur chocolate.” and this one too: “When he's down with a cold, he dodges the medicine and insists on a hot cocoa instead.” He is so like me for real.

Okay,  I’ll stop writing about Zayne before this turns into a full-blown thesis. about him lol. So, how does Zayne smell like? Fresh and clean with hints of sweet notes. We do have to remember that he works at a hospital, so, typically, it’s not common for doctors to wear perfumes, at least not the strong type. Considering this, I imagine that on a daily basis, he smells clean and fresh, with just a hint of sweetness. Outside the hospital, he likely keeps the same clean and fresh scent, though perhaps slightly stronger, sweeter and more noticeable. And, I also imagine he wears a perfume that’s simple yet undeniably luxurious, something niche and understated.

Notes: White musk, vetiver, bergamot, cedarwood, ambergris, vanilla and cocoa.

Perfumes:

Imaginary Authors: The Language of Glaciers

Zoologist - Snowy Owl

Creed - Silver Mountain Water

Guerlain - L'Homme Idéal Eau de Parfum

Chanel - Allure Homme Édition Blanche

And that’s all, my dears! I hope you’ve enjoyed this post! As always, it’s just based on my opinion. I’m really curious to know what you think our boys smell like!

[arrestedexgirlfriendafterhigh]

*tears up*

just- the girls

[xoxohannas-world]

little insight into h(a)n(na)'s world ༝༚༝༚

january '07 baby

⋆.˚ full time student - premed

about me

⤷ characters who made me who I am: bella swan, rory gilmore, cassie ainsworth, aria montgomery, carrie white & blair waldorf

⤷ books i think about everyday: l'amica geniale, le petit prince, madame bovary, das parfum, the chic diet, the idiot (batuman), my year of rest and relaxation

⤷ my personal mix: green tea, sushi and figs

⤷ i ♡ fiona apple, the rain, looking pretty, cillian murphy, poetry, elvis presley, angels, lana del rey, the sims, lily rose depp, ballet, phoebe bridgers, radiohead, brangelina (05-16), tanya dziahileva, letterboxd

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

fff- faith, father, food issues

gw: 49kg (bmi:16.2) h:174cm

ugw: 45kg (bmi:14.9)

undiagnosed (ongoing process)

" I just want to be perfect " and i'm working towards my goals everyday ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──xxx──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

[sophaeros]

the strokes for rip it up - new zealand, october/november 2001 / no. 283 — print version web version

Simple Scruffy Spunks

Scruffy rock stars get all the chicks. Julie Warmington and Kylie Klein Nixon corner the dashingly shaggy boys from the Strokes in London — once at an interview, then at a party — and find they just wanna drink and rock.

Meeting Julian Casablancas is like meeting living proof that rock'n'roll will never die. The 22-year-old New Yorker and singer with the Strokes should be embracing the "now" culture of many of his peers. He should be scrupulously clean, drug and booze free, heading down to Florida for the summer break with a pretty blond on his arm and Basement Jaxx on his personal MP3 player.

But he's not. Rip It Up still hasn't met him. He's in bed, hungover and refusing to get up. He is unwashed, jet lagged and beer crusted. Yay! We don't mind. When he finally does show, two hours late for the day's round of interviews, he's dishevelled and rye. His grin is about as infectious as rabies and he is, quite frankly, sexy as fuck.

"Hey, this is new," notes band manager Ryan Gentles, who’s been sitting fretting in the hotel lobby for what appears to be half the night and all of the morning. He's referring to Julian's tan La Coste jumper, not the attitude.

When we get our turn at the Strokes info trough, the boys are tucking into Thai rice and a round of amber nectar. It's 1pm. Handshakes and suitably half-arsed "nice to meet yous" are flung at us and we wade in.

"New Zealand," bellows Fabrizio "Call Me Fab" Moretti (drummer) when he hears the article is for Rip It Up. "Man, that's supposed to be a beautiful place. I have a friend who went there on an exchange, he said it was really cool." Aww, how sweet, he's heard of us. So when are you gonna go play there? "Dunno," whispers bass player Nicolai Fraiture shyly, "but we're going to Australia next month." Ah, great. Let's move on shall we?

—

"The coolest band on the planet", "the saviours of rock", playing on the catwalks of New York and Paris, hounded, followed and adored. Rumours abound — their names are made up, they were put together by the lead singer's dad (John Casablancas, founder of the Elite Model Agency), they're constantly fighting with each other, they're constantly fighting with strangers, they drink to much, they're gay, they're straight, they're homophobes. Everybody wants to know everything they can. But one thing is sure, The Strokes are roundly agreed to be the quintessential rock band, the "great white hope" of nu-rock'n'roll. They're more than that.

They're five guys who hooked up in high school with a shared interest in booze, girls and guitars. Casablancas (the vocals, wit, sex, and charm behind The Strokes) met Nicky Valensi* (the guitar playing, gorgeously cynical, faux English schoolboy) at New York City's Drake School before being shipped off to L'Institut Le Rosey in Switzerland for some "discipline". It was here that Casablancas bonded with Albert Hammond Jnr (dead pan and wised-up afro with a guitar).

Seems the Hammonds were having the same problems as Casablancas. Neither Julian nor Albert has anything particularly nice to say about the school, apart from adoring it for introducing them to each other. A year later Julian would be re-united with Nicky and meet up with Nicolai Fraiture (bass, stoically shy and sweet) and Fabrizio Moretti (drummer, earnest and excitable, all round ace guy) at The Dwight School on Manhattan's Upper West Side.

When fate drew Albert to the Big Apple via Los Angeles (his songwriting father, Albert Hammond, wrote It Never Rains In Southern California), Julian was the first person he looked up. Luckily the first vestiges of The Strokes had already been formed and all they needed was another guitarist. Albert was their man.

They performed together — properly — for the first time in 1998. There are stories floating around about debuts at Nicky's sister's 21st birthday and seedy bars in the village. Almost all these stories they will admit, are true. So they slowly built up up a reputation until finally getting booked at New York's Mercury Lounge. There they met Ryan Gentles, who became their manager. The Strokes were complete.

The rest will be history, as premature as that might be for a band who have just released their debut album, Is This It?.

So what are they all about? Besides saving us from the glut of pre-masticated pop and souls stifling dance, what are their hopes and ambitions?

Playing music and doing their stuff, by all accounts. Their stuff: a sublime mix of 70s New York City and noughty's savvy. Fashion flash and strep throats, with a smattering of anglophilia to match the op-shop chic. Garage soul-sensibilities and themes as diverse as personal disgust and underage lust.

We discover that Julian always roots for the underdog and doesn't "really give a fuck about baseball," and that the last time Albert cried was "as the plane was taking off". For Fab it was when Nicky's girlfriend dumped him (for the cute one from Weezer no less). At this, Nicky leaps to his feet to sing, Don't Cry For Me Fabrizio, at the top of his lungs.

"The Beatles hated each other, but we love each other," Nicky says. To prove the point they all agree that if they could only take five things to a desert island they would take each other and their manager. That is until Julian demands that one band member opt out so they can "take something more useful like a girl, or our fucking instruments". Just in time Nicky reasons that they can make their instruments out of coconuts and bamboo.

The band is open and unguarded — they want to chat. Chiefly with each other, but it's fine just being around this kind of energy.

Julian F. Casablancas. Nicholai Fraiture. Fabrizio Moretti. Nicky Valensi. Albert Hammond Jnr. The Strokes have got cool names. "I guess we just had cool parents who chose our names," chimes Fab. "My mom was like: (mock Italian accent) 'I think this boy will be a rocking roll star'."

The table then descends into chaos and spilt pints as they discuss the finer moments of Mrs. Moretti's experience. "But," adds Fab soberly, "she didn't know I was only going to be a drummer... she was too extravagant."

—

They take themselves seriously, oh yes. The album, Is This It?, took them one month to record... 30 days. It is the product of their "salad days" gigging around Manhattan and Philadelphia.

"That's why it works so well," says Fab, "we've had a really really long time to perfect the album outside the studio... an album that's who we are as The Strokes."

Who they are is a piece of carefully crafted art that will move you from the groin on out. A record to be cherished for its ability to make you smile and get up. Surely this is the wonder of Is This It? It's rock'n'roll that makes ya wanna move.

After experimenting with a different producer, namely Gil Norton of Husker Du and Pixies fame, the boys went back to their old friend Gordon Raphael who originally produced their three song EP Modern Age. They wanted to cut back on production, as Albert says, "To keep it true to the live set."

They all agree that Norton was great, but not for them. "Doing things professionally doesn't fit with our style," the lax and by now pissed voice of Julian crawls across the table. "If we stay raw it sounds, like... great."

Talk about understated. On the track Take It Or Leave It you can hear this man's tonsils crying out for mercy, you can smell the blood on Albert's shirt sleeves. This ain't no Radiohead mate.

They just wanna rock, and drink. Which has to be admired.

They're so un-phased by the media's insistence on linking them to The Velvet Underground, The Stooges, The Ramones and any number of late 70s New York punk they care to mention. Is This It? isn't going to shatter anyone's illusions about what these boys want to sound like.

"What a cool band to be compared to," admits Julian about The Velvet Underground. He means a band that's beloved and credible, different and weird... not to mention fucking good. "It's sorta a subconscious goal to have music that cool, but actually make it popular... a cool way to make popular music more interesting."

Rip It Up demands an explanation for so suddenly signing to majorinos RCA then. A chorus of oohs and ahhs goes up around the table before the earnest protestations that RCA are the best of a bad bunch. They do look slightly... defensive? Albert pipes up: "It's like being bisexual. Yeah, you get the best of both worlds."

The rest of the band agrees. "They just give us money and stay out of our way," says Nicky, flicking his hair out of his eyes.

Are they unrepentant about signing to a major? "I had the fucking head of RCA on the phone 4 o'clock in the morning," states Julian, "telling me how much he loved the album." Yes indeed.

Why is this not sickening? Why are the credibility censors not in overdrive? Because this is a band pure and simple. Mates who saw the spark reflected in each other. And they ain't that pretty, or well dressed. OK they are, but the point is, they just are. The Strokes were always going to happen thank Christ. A wake-up call for the apathetic. No slouching unless you mean it.

Julian says: "I wanted to make the music sound like it was from 30 years ago, but being heard now. With everything that entails. Do you understand?" If he means pared down and honest to the point of embarrassing, then yes. "Or the other way, like music from the future heard now."

True, Is This It? sounds a lot like it's something you dug out of your dad's wardrobe where the band on the cover are all wearing winkle pickers, whatever they are. There's more though, it's an understanding and knowledge that blasts the naïveté of 60s garage out into space.

Julian's descriptive powers and the knowledge aside, aren't they worried they'll lose this edge? Money, girls and power have wrecked havoc with better men than them. "But who cares as long as it sounds like we want," mutters a very distracted Nicky, only putting his head up occasionally from his magazine. "I mean, rawness, maybe we will want it more produced if that's what we like."

And herein lies the rub. In a perfect world RCA would not through money at these kids. RCA would ignore them no matter how good they actually were, no matter how much they want the cotton wool cosseting of the Big League. The band would have to work, creating themselves every step of the way. Paying their dues and becoming in the end a band utterly worthy of the 'great white hope' tag that has been hung carelessly on their coat hanger shoulders.

Will hype drown the creative spark? The worry is that in six months time no one's going to give a fig about Fab's broken hand, and Julian's dad, anymore than they'll care about any second album.

—

A few days later we bump into The Strokes lending moral support to fellow New York City space cadets, the Moldy Peaches, at their first London gig. The boys are high as heaven having come straight from the BBC where they recorded three songs for the legendary Top of the Pops. "Man," wails Julian, resplendent in pink silk tie and shiny grey suit jacket. "It was so fucking cool. It fuckin' rocked."

Fab is more sedate. "I can't believe we did it, but I fucked it up." Surely not? "I was so nervous I kept making mistakes. I sucked." But watching their performance on the show later it is easy to see that this is a band still on the rise, perfectionism aside, they control the stage, the cameras and above all, the hearts and souls of an audience more accustomed to Shaggy and Nelly Furtado. The fact that they’re on TOTP's at all (their single Hard To Explain entered the UK charts in the top 20 on a wave of passion and media hype) speaks volumes about the music buying public's desire for some Goddamn grunt.

At their epoch marking, celebrity studded, sold out show at Heaven in London, tickets are changing hands for £150 (NZ$500). The after party — the place is in a frenzy. The boys can barely move for the cameras clicking, autographs to be signed and girls hanging off every thread of their thrift store suits.

"I've been trying to get to the other side of the room for the last hour," Julian says incredulously. He's separated from his mates as they are accosted from all sides.

Nicky is posing in a photograph for a fan. Nicolai is signing a CD. Albert is being followed and literally clawed by a young female. It is as if she senses this is her only chance before he gets blasted into the rock pantheon. Fabrizio escapes the seething mass, broken hand in a sling (sadly replaced temporarily half way through their UK and Australian tour with Strokes friend Matt Romano), opting to talk to people outside the guest pass zone.

They have made it, with all that this entails. Young, talented, beautiful, cool and full of charisma, it seems that the rock and roll glitterati is at their blessed rock'n'roll feet. Hype and fashion aside, the music stands for itself. This is what we've been waiting for.

—

*Note 16/03/2025: Rip It Up appears to have gotten Nick and Nikolai mixed up. Julian and Nikolai were the ones who met first.

—

Stroke it

by Scott Kara

It’s nothing new, but God bless The Strokes. The comparisons between The Strokes and some bands from the past are obvious. Remember the first time you heard Nirvana's Nevermind or the Pixies Surfer Rosa and every damn song on the album was catchy –- well, that is true for the Strokes debut Is This it?

Even the band themselves make no secret of the formula behind their success. Julian Casablancas told Rip it Up: “I had this idea to make is This It? (their debut album] sound like music heard in the future, from 30 years ago.*

It's no surprise The Strokes stripped back gargle hails from New York, the home to the Ramones and Television.

At present American rock is known for either nu-metal - Linkin Park, Mudvayne, Limp Bizkit - or the clean and "nice" variety - Incubus, Train, Staind and Lifehouse. So it's a relief to have something as simple, raw and raunchy as The Strokes.

It makes you recall the past golden era of some American bands who paved the way for the Strokes like the Pixies, Husker Du, Sonic Youth and of course, Pavement.

As an indication of the influence these American bands had on world music take a look at Pavement front man, Stephen Malkmus. This low-key, lo-fi singer/guitarist is credited with inspiring Blur's true break-through album, The Great Escape.

Malkmus used to be friends with Blur's Damon Albarn but since Blur "ripped off" Pavement's signature sound on albums 13 and Blur, the relationship has been touchy. Malkmus is also credited with having some influence over Radiohead's OK Computer.

But if the USA has Malkmus and Pavement, then England would argue that they have Mark E Smith and the Fall. And if the USA and England have their patron saints of simple, clanging and banging music then New Zealand bands like The Clean, the Verlaines and Straitjacket Fits can claim some part in The Strokes DNA.

These so-called Flying Nun bands were a huge influence on Stephen Malkmus. "For me it was the years 1986 - 1990 when I was into Flying Nun," he told Rip It Up in April this year upon the release of his latest solo album."I went off to college and got into punk and New Zealand music. It was kind of poppy and jangly but it was slightly underground." What better way to describe The Strokes?

Clean, clang, bang

THE AMERICANS:

Ramones

Ramones (1976)

Blitzkrieg Bop was the Ramones first anthem. Rock’n’roll stripped back to its bare essentials — four chords, catchy tunes and deliciously daft words.

Television

Marquee Moon (1977)

The Strokes could very well be Television. But the difference is, Television played three-minute songs as well as ten-minute songs.

Husker Du

New Day Rising (1985)

Sonic three-man guitar rock. The opening assault of New Day Rising could just as well have signaled Apocalypse rising.

Sonic Youth

Daydream Nation (1989)

If the Ramones were simple, catchy rock’n’roll then Sonic Youth were simple, catchy, noise. Whether you’re sailing Cross The Breeze or riding a Silver Rocket — it’s a trip.

Pavement

Slanted and Enchanted (1992)

Debatable whether this is their best work but it’s what the public wanted and apparently what Blur — and Radiohead to a certain extent — needed.

THE BRITS:

The Fall

458489 A-Sides (1990)

This album encompasses the mid to late 80s when the Fall was at their arty, deviant best. Everything from warped opener Oh Brother! to the jaunt of Dead Beat Descendent.

THE NEW ZEALANDERS

The Clean

Boodle, Boodle, Boodle (1981)

Simple, catchy and child-like. It’s music that became uniquely Kiwi sounding and is a sound that many overseas still associate most strongly with NZ.

The Chills

Kaleidoscope World (1984)

This eight-song collection included everything from the dark foreboding Pink Frost to the rollicking Rolling Moon and the flutter of Kaleidoscope World.

The Bats

Daddy’s Highway

Noisy country pop music you can stage dive to. Their line up read like a mini NZ-super group including Robert Scott (ex-Clean) and Paul Kean (ex-Toy Love).

Straitjacket Fits

Melt (1990)

Shayne Carter (now Dimmer’s head honcho) has a unique voice and shows on Melt his genius songwriting talents. She Speeds might not be here, but who cares.

The Verlaines

Hallelujah All The Way Home (1985)

Graeme Dowqnes (see story over page) is a poet and story teller and puts it to music. He now teaches the rock’n’roll degree at Otago University.

[mordredpendragon]

Hands you an Agravaine (for the ask meme) :3

hi ram !!!! thank you for the ask! here's an agravaine for you <3

with a bonus laurel!

ask game under the cut

favorite thing about them

tbh i was pretty neutral on him until i started reading vulgate, he's so much more fleshed out and layered there (i started reading arthuriana with le morte d'arthur and he does fuck all there lol)

i think he's an incredibly compelling character, especially with his interpersonal relationships. there's just something about gawain having a younger brother named essentially not gawain and being a huge contrast to him, and i also really like his relationship with mordred in vulgate as an older brother who raised him. he's the kind of character who's wedged in between characters that are larger than him (i'm sorry agravaine but you're related to gawain, mordred, and arthur and being someone who's related to them is kinda your whole thing) and that in itself is interesting. especially considering that he dies during the fall of camelot, arthur mourns his death

vulgate, death of arthur

rereading this for this post put a tears in my eyes IT KILLS MEEEEEE. AGRAVAINE...... but yes tl;dr my favorite thing about him is being related to gawain/arthur/mordred and him dying. its sooo so so fun (not for them but its fun for ME)

least favorite thing about them

tbh, i find him to be severely underutilized (and if not, completely done dirty) i hate the characterization in which he's just mordred's lackey and there to pretty much die to lancelot and nothing else.

i think it would be way more impactful if he was fleshed out as a legit character. adds to the tragedy that he was somebody the audience actually cares for and not just some NPC lancelot murders lol.

also, really dislike how prose tristan stuff writes him (and the orkney brothers in general) where he's an irredeemable villain but i digress. it doesn't help that i don't care for the orkney/wales blood feud. it's never done in a way that resonates with me.

also the character assassination TH White has done to agravaine PISSES ME OFFFFFFFF ALL THE SHITTY AGRAVAINES IN MODERN ARTHURIANA IS HIS FAULT I SWEAR. aka making him morgause's killer throwing in some added incest in which he lusts for her. GROSS !!!! agravaine get behind me!!!!!

favorite line

tbh i could put anything that he says in mordred, a tragedy by henry newbolt but i really love this one in particular. talking about their brothers and that they're on mordred's side.... it brings a tear to my eye i love the orkneys so much. they're BROTHERS !!!!!!!!

brOTP

obviously him and his brothers! gawain and agravaine is great. so is mordred and agravaine. among his brothers those two i think he has the most interesting dynamic with. this post is already stupidly long and i could make an entire post in general about agravaine's relationship with his brothers, so i think i'll focus on agravaine and mordred.

for one, i love agravaine and mordred in BBC Legend of King Arthur 1979. the orkney brothers in general are great in it (minus gaheris bc he isn't there RIP) but i adore how it expounds on his dynamic with mordred AND his aunt morgan. mordred and morgan are both schemers with plots against arthur and guinevere, morgan wanting revenge on her father gorlois' death and mordred having (in later episodes) vying for the throne, agravaine on the other hand is a lot more sincere and earnest. he had no ulterior motives and his undoing was his honesty. he loved his uncle arthur, and he meant well when he wanted to report guinevere and lancelot's affair to him, because he saw it as a betrayal on arthur, not an opportunity (like morgan and mordred). those two had to "corrupt" him in some way, which what happens during the guinevere apple murder trial because mordred and morgan essentially make agravaine an unwilling accomplice. its soooo so fascinating i highly recommend that show.

second, i'd love to talk about agravaine and mordred in henry newbolt's play: mordred, a tragedy 1895. genuinely has got to be one of my if not THE favorite retelling i've ever read. if anyone reading this hasn't, i'd just urge you to read it bc it's just that good. mordred is the main character as the title says, and agravaine is one of the main secondary characters, he takes on an almost paternal/guiding figure to a young yet incredibly idealistic, passionate mordred and acts as his voice of reason.

JAW DROP..... LIKE THIS SCENE WAS CRAZY. the earlier conversation where it was just them is top notch, and this kind of dynamic between agravaine and mordred is something i'd love to see more often.

BIG fan of agravaine essentially being the logical/reasonable one between his brothers. i've compared him to dinadan because i think they're similar characters (except obviously agravaine isn't a jester/bard like he is) but they function similarly, in my opinion.

OTP

AGRAVAINE AND LAUREL 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 i love them so so soso much it drives me insane. they're so perfect. i don't care that laurel is basically just a name in malory, i also love the HC that she's his lady love who (alongside a young mordred) takes care of him when he was suffering from a curse in vulgate.

admittedly i am biased to how i write them and how my peers write them (shoutout to @queer-ragnelle AGAIN lmao this is literally your fault)

nOTP

anything incestuous. looking at you TH White.

random headcanon

my favorite headcanon is that he's got some sort of facial scarring and he's blind in one eye. for me personally it's no reason just vibes, in my project he's got some kinda magic sigil under his eye (he can't see through it though obviously)

and like, obviously as a disability it affects how he fights. one of my favorite things about him in vulgate is comparing how he navigates battle and combat in comparison to his brother gawain, he's a lot more careful and discerning in his encounters rather than just going berserker mode. you can see this in agravaine vs druas the cruel, i think

vulgate lancelot part v

he knows his limits, lol

since i made him blind in one eye, he knows his blind spot and his weaknesses. (in my lore he's referred to as sir agravaine the one eyed swordsman for this reason) and he's a lot more calculating and cunning in his fighting style, more relying on wits + terrain (funny the guy with one eye is more observant than most people)

unpopular opinion

nothing i haven't said earlier. for whatever reason he has this reputation for being a crazy misogynist (likely thanks to Fate/grand order because of his infamous over meme'd to the oblivion line about hating women) and also again because of T.H White's depiction of him. and whatever the hell BBC Merlin did to him.

i just really hate that kind of depiction of him and honestly? there's worse characters. breuse sans pite's whole thing is being a rapist, and geraint/erec spends the entire time in his respective romances brutalizing his wife enid.

free my man agravaine he doesn't deserve this slander 😭or at the very least, i would like to have more nuanced portrayals of him for variety.

favorite picture of them

really love this image of him from the short story by P.G Wodehouse. really cute short story about agravaine!!

[curiositydooropened]

Ranged • 02: Home

Finally, a day off. You're prepping for your best friend's barbecue when your partner starts pounding on your front door with news that brings you unease.

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 5074

Warnings: very slowburn, this fic is episodic, coworkers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, weapons, fighting, murder, viruses, decay, monsters *This chapter contains mentions of death, cremation, scars, autopsies, etc.

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Fic Masterlist

---

Moodboard • 01: Firetower • 03: Bayou [Coming soon]

The pounding at your door nearly startled the wrapped gift from your hand. 

“Be right there!” You shouted and carefully tucked the card beneath crossed ribbon. 

With a huff, you made your way to the door. It was a challenge nowadays, hobbling on one foot, bracing yourself on the back of your couch and the buffet near the front door. The staircase was by-far the worst of it, especially when you were still on crutches. 

The pounding continued, a bit incessant and impatient, and you groaned. “Hold on! I’m in a boot!” 

The little cover over your peephole swung beneath your fingertips, and you strained to see your partner. His broad shoulders took up most of the frame, and his hair wagged as he checked both sides of your hallway. 

You unlocked the deadbolt and inched the door open. “Steve?”

“Les Joplin is dead.” Worry creased his brow.

You sighed and hobbled aside to let him in. Owens had called you with the bad news this morning. It was just a part of the gig. You can’t save everyone. You noticed Steve took these things harder than you’d been trained to.

Steve barreled past you, and until you saw the look of curiosity cross his features, you’d forgotten he’d never been to your apartment before. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about the lace trimmed window treatments your mom had set up and the Pig-shaped cookie jar on the countertop. His fingertips grazed the couch upholstery and he took in your massive entertainment shelves before turning to size you up.

“I’m sorry, were you going somewhere?”

You tugged your cardigan a little closer, hem of your dress brushing your knee over your hideous boot. “It is our day off.”

He nodded, and you took a moment to survey his own outfit. An oversized sweater was emblazoned with red, white, and blue embroidery. Navy blue shorts barely covered the breadth of his hairy thighs. The way his hair stuck to his temples denoted he’d been out on a Sunday morning jog. 

“How’d you find out about Les?” You asked, hobbling back to the kitchen to pour him a glass of water. 

Steve met you there, tutting about your bum leg as he reached over your head for a glass from the cabinet to fill for himself. “Owens left me a voicemail.” 

You watched the steady rise and fall of his Adam’s apple as he drank. A droplet fell from the corner of his lips and slid down the length of his jaw until he reached to wipe it up. 

“Joplin makes six in six months.” He frowned, turning the faucet on to rinse. 

You frowned, nodded. It was true, nearly all of the people you’d managed to life-flight out of Hell seemed to have died through some infection or surgical complications.

“Joplin had a broken leg.” Steve tapped at your boot with his toe. “You’re still alive.” 

You rolled your eyes. “He’d also been exposed to the elements for two days before we reached him. Vines had wrapped themselves around him. He could have been infected with the Blight and we just didn’t know.” 

“He was coherent!” Steve argued, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t find any of this fishy?”

The vulnerability in his gaze was rare, a softness that kicked something up within you, reminded you that this grumpy exterior cared and had compassion.

You chewed on your bottom lip and shrugged. “What do you want to do about it?” 

His shoulders seem to relax a little, and he leaned against your counter, crossing his ankles over one another. “I have someone looking into the autopsy of the Garcia brothers.”

You swallowed, remembering the smiling faces of the two boys as they held each other’s hand in the back of the ambulance. They’d died hours after pick-up. You shook your head. “They were cremated, remember? We can’t exhume any bodies.” 

Steve nodded. “I know. They’ve all been cremated. Les is being torched as we speak.” 

“Steve,” you groaned at his crudity, imaging the frail man with kind eyes being locked in an incinerator.

“Like I said, someone’s looking into it. I’m meeting them tonight.”

You broached your next question with caution. “Have you… spoken to Owens about this?”

Steve watched you, like a caged animal deciding whether or not it could trust the hand that feeds it. 

You understood the roots of his mistrust. You barely knew what he’d gone through, how complicated his tangles were with these government entities, but what little you did know seemed reason enough to question everything.

He cleared his throat, shook his head. “No, I want to have more solid evidence before I bring it to his attention.”

You nodded and opened your mouth to commend him when the antique cuckoo clock on your wall chimed 11. “Shit!”

Steve leapt back onto his feet, just as startled as you, and he side-stepped you as you grappled for the gift and wine bottle on the counter behind him. 

“Steve, I’m so sorry, but I’m late.” You said as you hobbled to your denim jacket and purse hanging near the front door. 

“You’re not driving, right?” He frowned.

You cursed again, reaching into your purse to procure your cell phone. 

“Who are you calling?”

“A cab,” you argued, shoving him out your door with full hands. The phone rang, wedged between your cheek and shoulder, and you fumbled in your bag for some keys. “Hold these,” you dumped the gifts into his outstretched hands.

“Hang up. I’ll drive you.” He sighed.

“Capital Cab Company, how can we help you today?”

“What?” You struggled with the key in the lock, and gaped at your partner when he gently removed your phone from your ear and ended the call.

“Let me drive you.”

—

A jagged scar sliced through toned and tanned thigh meat, deep, purple, fresh enough to thrust you back into that cold cave. You taste his blood in the air, feel his pulse slow against your chest. 

“So at what point were you going to tell me your partner was this scrumptious?” Your childhood best friend’s voice shook you back to reality.

Steve stood about a hundred feet away, thighs at eye-level and on-show in those tiny running shorts. His white tube socks were stained with flecks of mud and grass. He hugged one hand into his armpit, the other held a beer he’d barely drank since you all stepped into the backyard an hour earlier. 

“Or was that confidential information?” Sadie snickered, poking at your side.

You shushed her with a waved hand, trying not to let her see the way you warmed at the idea. You leaned forward in your lawn chair for another handful of potato chips from the card table teetering in front of you. “He is not… scrumptious.” 

Steve Harrington wasn’t a hunk. You’d seen him with toothpaste stuck to the corner of his mouth and dribbled down his sleep shirt. You watched him trip over his own shoelaces once. 

Sure, he took great care of his body. It was kind of in the job description. Neither of you could climb mountains or fight monsters if you’d let yourself go. And yeah, he possessed handsome features. He had a nice hairline and thick, full hair, rare for a man his age. The handful of times you’d seen his stubble grow in hadn’t made him look haggard.

You could admit there was a kindness in his eyes too, saved for incredibly special occasions.

“I honestly don’t know how you get any work done,” Michelle agreed, pouring herself another glass from the wine bottle you’d brought.

“I’d be taking every opportunity to climb him like a tree.” Tammie played with the pendant on her necklace, perched on her chair like she was waiting for him to look her direction.

You coughed, salty chip wedged somewhere in your esophagus.

Sadie saw your struggle and laughed, slipping your wine glass into a salty hand for relief.

“So tell us,” Rhonda leaned in, covering her mouth with her hand, “have you two ever…?” She waggled her eyebrows.

You sputtered wine back into your glass, and Sadie threw her head back in delight. 

You wiped the dribble from your chin and glared at your best friend. “Is this why you invited him in? So you and the girls could torment me?”

“Oh Pigeon, don’t be so dramatic,” Sadie pinched the flab under your arm and grinned. “I invited him in because I wanted to stare at those thighs. Think he’ll play volleyball if we put the net up?”

“Your husband is right there.” You gestured to poor, sweet Jeff, receding hairline and beer gut stretching his cotton polo. He drank his beer and flipped burgers and stared at Steve like he was just at smitten as his wife.

“He can join,” Sadie shrugged. 

This sent the other women in a fit of giggles and hoots. 

Steve met your gaze. Someone behind you must have waggled their fingers, because the corners of his lips quirked into a confused smile, and he extended a timid wave. 

You chewed on your cheeks to avoid laughing with them.

“I know we’ve been talking about those legs, but have you seen the size of his hands?” Tammie whispered into her wine glass.

“Oh I know, I’d like him to - “

“Alright,” you hoisted yourself from your lawn chair and hobbled away from the cackling women. The grass wasn’t ideal for your wobbly boot, but anywhere was better than the warmth radiating from your collar and the call of your best friend for you to return. 

Halfway across the yard, you stumbled on a rogue gopher hole, wine splashing from your glass and all over the front of the man who was conveniently there to catch you. Two large hands held you upright at your ribs.

“Why is it difficult for you to just sit and stay there?” Steve asked, chin and throat glistening with white wine. It soaked the top half of his sweatshirt.

Before you could apologize, the crew was on you, a flurry of mom’s pinching and doting, patting you both with paper towels. 

Steve waved them off so he could limp you back to your seat, pointing a warning finger your direction. “Stay there.”

“Steve, honey, let me throw that in the wash for you. I’m sure Jeff has something you can borrow.” Sadie shot you a salacious look before beckoning your partner in through the sliding glass door at the back of her house.

“Think they need help?” Rhonda snorted, and the rest of them started to holler again.

—

A summer thunderstorm forced the party indoors. Husbands toted drunk wives out the front door. The kids were hauled into the basement with popsicles and VHS rentals. Only a handful of party-goers remained, indulging in quiet conversation around Sadie’s immaculately floral living room. Her favorite record spun in the corner. 

“I’m worried about you, Pigeon,” she tapped at your knee above your boot and offered a glass of water. 

You accepted it and shrugged. “Hazards of the job. I survived, didn’t I?” You kneed her back.

She glanced around the room before she lowered her voice. “When Steve changed earlier, I saw those… scars. What exactly are you two fighting out there?” Her eyes were wide, full of worry, of fear. 

You felt it, too, sometimes. You thought about her a lot, about a life in a perfect suburban home with a picket fence. You wondered if you’d ever achieve that, too.

“Steve went through a lot before we recruited him.” It was the only explanation you could manage. 

You glanced at your partner. He stood in the kitchen, arms crossed over a too-small polo of Jeff’s in a horrid khaki green that still, somehow suited him. You wondered if he’d ever wanted the American Dream. You could imagine him hunched beneath a kitchen sink or flipping burgers outside. You could imagine him coming home after a long day’s work, dumping his briefcase in the hall closet, smelling the air for a home-cooked dinner. You imagined kids and a dog running to greet him.

“I just need you to be careful,” Sadie warned.

You blinked back into focus, and turned to see the look in her eye had changed. 

She nodded toward the kitchen, a knowing smirk playing at full lips.

“Sadie, thank you so much for inviting me. Are you sure it’s alright if Wyatt stays here tonight?” A voice from behind you pulled your best friend from her seat on the couch.

“Michelle, of course! Wyatt’s welcome anytime. Just call if you can’t pick him up tomorrow, I’ll have Jeff drive him home.” Sadie kissed her acquaintance on the cheek, bangles on her wrists jingling. 

Michelle said your name, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “It was really good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “You, too.”

She turned from you both and took a few steps before pausing and turning back to face you. “Okay, I know this is going to sound a bit… I dunno.” She waved off her words, insecurity oozing from a typically-poised frame.

Michelle was such a sweet woman, confident, beautiful. She worked with Jeff in radio advertising. She was a single mom. You’d never seen a hair of hers out of place, nor a pearled button. 

You glanced at Sadie, whose demeanor had gone rigid beside you.

“I just um… is there anything going on between you and Steve?”

You blinked back at her, your mouth going a little dry.

“I only ask because he and I had a really nice conversation earlier, and I wanted to give him my number, but I obviously would never step on your toes. I think the world of you. Also like, if it’d be weird at all, that’s totally understandable.” She was rambling now, her pale features tinged a bright red. 

Sadie was holding her breath beside you.

You blinked a few more times, processing the word vomit, and eventually your head shook itself. “No. Nope, no, huh uh. No. Um… no.” For God sake, anything else, say anything else. 

Sadie elbowed you.

You laughed. “Sorry, just um… Steve? Harrington?”

Michelle ducked her head and smiled, tucking a black curl behind her ear. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Chyeah, of course it is. That’s great, Michelle! That’s really great! I’ll put in a good word for you.” The words came out of you like they were flowing from someone else’s mouth. You felt paralyzed in your seat. Sadie’s claws were digging into the meat of your thigh. 

“Oh really? Oh that’d be amazing. Thanks so much. Well, wish me luck, I guess, then…” She let out a little eep like a school girl and waggled her fingers your direction before she turned to make a b-line to the kitchen. 

“You’ll put in a good word?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, smacking your friend’s hand away.

Steve stood up straight at Michelle’s approach, that stiff kindness meeting his eyes. He struck you a bit like Frankenstein’s monster, a man learning to be human again, movements stilted and face stuck in a scowl.

Michelle took something from her purse and placed it into his large hand, her own fingers lingering softly against his.

His throat turned a bit pink, and his ears, and it looked like he was fighting off a smile like it might hurt him. He nodded and said something back, and they ended their exchange with an awkward half-hug. Her curls caught on the bridge of his nose, his lashes. He met your gaze from across the room.

Then he jumped, apologized as the distinct bell of his cell phone chimed in his pocket.

Michelle left with one last excited wave to you girls, but you were already snapping your fingers for Sadie to grab you your purse from the coffee table. 

You dug for your phone, but by the time you flipped it open and dialed into voicemail, Steve was walking your direction. 

“Sadie, mind if I grab my sweatshirt?” He shot you a look and said, “We have to go.”

—

The rain thunked heavy on Steve’s windshield, wipers pulsing at a steady rhythm. The warmth of a far-off streetlamp cast reds and yellows across his silhouette and splashed across a bare kneecap.

You sat in a park parking lot. A swing set swayed in the wind a hundred or so yards to your left. A large hill jetted upwards at your center. Trees scattered the area. 

Steve’s car idled. The heater puffed warmth that smelled of leather and him, and the faintest sweet of white wine that Sadie’s natural detergent hadn’t managed to squeeze out of his sweatshirt. 

“Where are we?” You asked, glancing around the empty lot. 

The sun had dipped west an hour ago, just as you reversed out of Sadie’s driveway beside Jeff’s station wagon. 

“I don’t know,” Steve grumbled. His leg bounced, shaking the entire car with nervous energy. 

You had half a mind to slow his movements, the heat and the sway churning your motion-sick stomach, but the idea of clamping down on his muscled and hairy thigh had you thinking of the girls at the barbecue. You imagined each of them in the backseat of his car, oohing and chanting for you to quit being a baby and just do it.

So you sucked your cheeks between your teeth and stared directly ahead at the beading water on the windshield.

“So…” You breathed. “What did you think of Michelle?”

“Who?” Steve stopped his quake.

You sighed and looked back at him. “Michelle, from the party? Black hair, freckles, drop-dead gorgeous. She gave you her number at the end of the night?”

“Oh right,” he said, like that was the only indication he’d met this woman.

You blinked back at him, waiting for more elaboration. You should have known better. With another deep breath, you pushed a little further. “She wanted me to put in a good word.” 

“Okay,” and now he waited expectedly.

“What?” You frowned.

“Tell me something good about her.”

For the life of you, all you could muster was, “She’s a really good mom?”

Steve snorted, though his expression remained unamused. “Great, I’ll ask her to cut the crust off my sandwiches.” 

“No, that’s not…” You huffed, adjusting your sweating back against the leather seat. You grumbled and flicked off the heat, suddenly feeling the space around you void of air.

You sat in silence for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts, frustrated that the only image coming to mind was Michelle’s perfectly manicured nails clinging to Jeff’s polo collar. Steve’s hands held her close, sliding down to the seat of her jeans. 

Steve cleared his throat, and you blinked back to reality.

“I’m sure I can think of nicer things to say,” you managed to squeak out.

“I’m not going to date Michelle,” Steve spoke low and slow beside you, his voice warming you more than the heater had.

You glanced up at him, strong jaw and defined nose cut through warm lamplight. You pondered his tone, wondered how final it had felt, how far you could press. Maybe it’d be best to leave it there.

“This job doesn’t lend well to… a life.” His voice startled you again, information given before it was asked.

You didn’t dare respond, lips sealed, breath held.

He scratched at the stubble overgrown on his chin. “Doesn’t feel fair to get someone’s hopes up when I could be killed the next day.”

His name fell from your lips in a sigh, and he caught you gaze, lips quirked upward in a wry smile as he waved his words from the space between you.

“That’s just me though. I’m not like… putting that on you. Date a bunch of guys, if you want! Or one guy! Or one gal. I don’t care, I just um…” He coughed into his hand. 

You snorted and glanced back out the windshield at the lamplight and the rain. 

A shadow moved straight ahead, emerging from the hill top, bowed shoulders and a wide-brimmed hat. 

“Steve,” you nodded, reaching your hand into your bag for your concealed weapon. 

He adjusted himself upright, his own hand stopping your wrist. 

“Is that your guy?” You asked, heart thundering a little louder in your ear.

“I hope so,” he answered, and you both just waited. 

The figure seemed to sway down the hillside, walking at too slow a pace, darting through the tree line to be covered in shadow when he could. Finally, as he stepped into the warmth of lamplight and tilted his head to expose round cheeks, Steve released your wrist and dropped his shoulders in relief.

The door creaked and the pitter of rain against the asphalt deafened you for a moment as Steve stepped out to scold the contact. Both men spoke in hushed tones, gesturing wildly to you before admitting defeat and retreating to the safety of the car’s interior. The whole vehicle shook under their combined weight, and they brought with them the sweet smell of ozone. 

You eyed Steve, tendrils of his hair dripping onto scruffy cheekbones.

He grimaced and pushed his hair from his eyes, gesturing from you to the man in the seat behind him. “This is Dustin Henderson, Henderson, this is my partner.” He introduced you.

“My real name, Steve? Really?” Dustin snapped, pulling the fedora from wild curls.

Steve shrugged. “She didn’t know it was your real name until you just confirmed it, dipshit.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

You blinked back at a the two of them. There was no family resemblance, but they bickered like siblings, and you realized this was the largest glimpse you’d gained into Steve’s private life in the year you’d known him. You knew his parents’ names, that he grew up in Indiana. You knew he was captain of the swim team. You knew he enjoyed sports. You knew he knew far too much about the movie Labyrinth. You knew his go-to sit-in diner order (a cheeseburger with no onions and a strawberry shake). But somehow this connection, with this strange young man, was the greatest insight you had into who your partner really was.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you extended a hand. 

Dustin Henderson smiled at that, a big, warm, round smile. His hand was cold and clammy from the rain, but the handshake was strong and firm. “Likewise,” he nodded. “Steve was right, you are a beautiful woman.”

“Hello? Can we talk about the autopsy reports?” Steve snapped his fingers to get you both back on track.

“Okay, Jesus Christ,” Dustin hissed like a scolded middle schooler. He reached into the inside pocket of his oversized trench coat and pulled out a few pieces of paper. He handed half the pile to Steve and half to you. 

You squinted down at a handful of coroner’s reports, the names of the deceased all familiar to you. Les Joplin sat at the top of the pile. Cause of death: prolonged exposure. You swallowed and handed the paper over for Steve to read.

He shook his head. “So could you find anything?” 

Dustin tapped his fingers on the bottom of the pages. “All of these autopsy’s were done by the same man. No matter what part of the country these people were in, they brought in the same guy. George Humbolt.”

You thumbed through the remaining papers to find the signature he’d indicated. 

“George Humbolt no longer works for the United States government. He actually recently retired and bought a very large mansion in Key Largo. He was a very difficult man to track down, and when I called him earlier to ask him about the Garcia brothers, his phone line was disconnected.” Dustin explained through grit teeth.

You glanced up at the young man, peach fuzz barely cresting his upper lip. You wondered what got him into this life, if he’d been thrust into conspiracy theories chasing his older brother-figure. You wondered if he’d seen as many horrible things as Steve had, as you had. You hoped not. You hoped nothing would come of this snooping. You hoped he was being safe.

“Humbolt didn’t do Joplin’s,” Steve exchanged you papers again. In script, you could barely make out the name of a woman, Caroline Something. “Maybe we can track down the new person?”

“I did some digging into her too.” Dustin nodded. “Her supervisor is one Samuel Owens.”

You watched Steve’s expression shift, harden. You watched him watch you. You watched the trust fall from his eyes, wariness making his shoulders and jaw rigid.

He swallowed, nodded, folded the papers in his hands. “Well, Henderson, thanks for this, man. I think maybe it’d be wise to lay low for a little while.”

“Sure, man. You know I’m always careful though.” Dustin could sense the shift in his friend. His face seemed to screw up, too, in concern. He offered you a sad smile. 

Steve nodded, solemn, and cranked the heat again. The noise from the fan cut through the tension. “Do you need a ride home? How the Hell did you get out here?”

“Walked.” Dustin sighed and folded himself back into his seat, reaching for the seat belt.

—

The rain calmed to a soft sprinkle that dotted your cheeks. Droplets caught on your eyelashes and cast stardust in your vision under streetlights and the entrance to your apartment building. You blinked them away, keys jingling at your side as you let yourself in.

Steve held the door to let you hobble past, and he followed you in quiet silence onto the elevator.

You pressed the button to your floor and relaxed into the handrail, taking some weight off your aching foot in its boot.

Dustin had made sweet small talk on his way home, asking about your life and your interests. You’d learned he was a computer programmer. He had a pet turtle, and Steve was his best friend. 

When he exited the car, the two exchanged a cute handshake that Steve seemed nonplussed to reenact, despite both of them being silhouetted in the headlights.

Steve didn’t speak a word to you the rest of the way home.

“Thanks again for sticking with me at Sadie’s today. You really didn’t have to stay.” You said, voice hoarse, as you stepped off the elevator and onto your floor.

Your partner shrugged, rubbed at the back of his neck. “I had fun. Sorry about Henderson, by the way. He can be a bit…” 

“Endearing? Wholesome? Adorable?” You smiled.

Steve snorted. “I was going to say obnoxious, but I’ll tell him you said that. He’ll probably buy you flowers.” 

You hummed. “Flowers are nice, and so was he.” 

You put your keys into your lock and twisted. Steve was warm behind you, a towering presence of protection and safety. You thought of Sadie’s warning. Be careful. Never had you doubted where you stood with Steve. Even though he’d been a stranger to you, you never felt threatened, never felt afraid. 

You turned to look at him.

He swallowed, glanced down the hall. “Listen, I’m really sorry about today. Sometimes I can’t handle that I can’t save everyone, and I get a bit carried away.”

Your heart sunk, and you tilted your head to catch his gaze. His brown eyes were nervous. You shook your head. “No, you were right. Something weird is going on, and we’re going to figure it out. We can’t save everyone, but we can save someone.”

He took a few beats, searching for a falter in your certainty, searching for that trust in you, before he nodded.

A soft meow startled you apart, and your front door clicked open. Mrs. Song’s cat began rubbing his black and white butt against Steve’s ankle, purring loudly.

You both chuckled, clutching at startled chests before Steve leaned down to give the cat some much-needed pets.

Your heart pittered a little in your chest, and you found your face warming once again at the thought of Steve returning home after a long day’s work to greet his pets.

You cleared your throat and backed into your apartment, tossing your purse on the nearby hook and shrugging out of your jacket. “Well, goodnight. Thanks again for the ride.”

Steve stood up straight, all thick thighs and broad shoulders, cheeks pinched pink. He nodded. “Sure, no problem. Do you uh… do you need a ride to the office tomorrow?”

You tucked a hair behind your ear and shrugged. “Sure, um… sure, thanks.” 

He nodded again. “Alright, pick you up at 7:45?”

You nodded. You felt paralyzed in this moment.

Steve stood in the precipice of your doorway, the green of your wallpaper bringing out the green in his eyes. You thought back to the teasing words of the women at the barbecue. If any of them had a man like this in their doorway, they’d invite him in, offer him a drink, do anything but stand and stare and wonder what could be, hearts racing.

He wrapped his knuckles against the doorframe and pushed off, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. “Alright, then. Night.”

“Night.” You managed.

He stumbled a bit around the cat during his turnaround and bent to give her one last little pat.

“Steve!”

He stopped and stood back up to look at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t let the job discourage you,” you released a shaky exhale.

He frowned, confused.

“From having a life,” you explained.

Realization flooded his features, but the two of you remained rooted to the spot. You thought of Dustin and his turtle, and of Sadie and Jeff and their sweet little home. You thought of kids screaming on the trampoline. You thought of all of these things you never thought you’d have, unsure if you wanted them, unsure where Steve stood, if you’d be dragging him down, stealing his happiness by dying on the field. Maybe that’s what happened to Robin…

You cleared your throat, smiled, nodded. “You should really call Michelle. She’s a really sweet person. She’s funny. She’s very intelligent. She makes excellent brownies. Her son, Wyatt, is a really cool kid, too. I think he’s in karate.”

Steve nodded, taking another step backwards into the hallway, spell-broken. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good.” You smiled. “Night.”

“Night.”

The peephole carved a divot into your forehead once the door was closed. 

---

Moodboard • 01: Firetower • 03: Bayou [Coming soon]

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